


Not Going Well...

by FormulaFerrari



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Dom/Sub undertones in some chapters, Explicit Language, F/M, Light Bondage in some chapters, M/M, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 18:43:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 347,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormulaFerrari/pseuds/FormulaFerrari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After another failed Championship fight, Fernando finds his whole world collapsing and changing, creating confusion and anger for him and everyone he is around. If only someone could pull him out of this mess...</p><p>Set after the 2013 Korean Grand Prix</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Korea

**Author's Note:**

> *Disclaimer - The gist of what the drivers say in their interviews is directly quoted or briefly quoted from what the drivers have said themselves. Most of these are in italics but some are not. I own the rights to none of them. They are not mine; purely adapted to make this work of fiction a little more realistic.*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When I race in Australia or Korea or Japan I know it will be a big change for me because Ferrari fans are worldwide."  
> ~Fernando Alonso~

“What’s happening? Where is the smoke coming from?” He didn’t even try to hide the shock from his voice; it was insane. The safety car had only just gone back into the pits. His vision was slightly fogged and this was not ideal for driving

“OK, so the Safety is due to be deployed again,” The voice came through his ears just over the grumble of the V8 behind him. Again? It had only just gone back in.

“Again? What happened?” 

“Car off at turn three – its on fire,” So that would explain the smoke. His stomach dropped. 

“Who?”

“Webber, he was hit by Sutil. Be careful around the incident, visibility will get worse,” Unbelievable. How much bad luck could one man get? Fernando felt bad for Mark, and couldn’t help peering through the smoke to try and catch a glimpse of his best friend. Nothing could be seen; he had no idea where Mark was.

“Is he OK? Is he out?” His voice faltered as he saw where the fire had started. There was no way he would have been able to see that from the cogpit.

“Yes, Fernando, he is fine. The marshals have got him back to the pits. Focus – restart in two laps,” Fernando listened to his engineer and tried to focus back on the race. He was fighting hard but nothing seemed to be working. Gratitude flooded through him as the chequered flag dropped and he relaxed a little. Knowing he couldn’t loose any more points was little reassurance to the mess that was this race. He pulled into the space around the back of the pits, the first time he had done that since the summer break. Sixth? What was that? He put on a brave face and headed off; trying to think of anything but the Championship he was inevitably going to be asked about shortly.

\- - - - - - - - - - 

\- So, Fernando, sixth isn’t exactly what you were hoping for this morning, what happened? -

We were not as competitive today as we hoped we would, normally, we expect to struggle a little on Saturdays but on Sunday we can find the pace that we need. Today, we did not.

\- Was this a surprise for yourself and the team? - 

Well, our pace on Friday showed some issues on our long runs, but we had hoped we would be able to work around this today. Unfortunately, we could not, so yes, I suppose we were a little surprised.

\- How does this affect your championship fight? -

I think it is safe to say that we are focusing more on next year.

\- Finally, after the incident with Mark last week, how did you feel when you found out he didn’t finish the race again? - 

Yeah, I mean, it is disappointing for him; obviously, each race is his last at the location so it would be great to see him finish them all. Hopefully he will have better luck in Japan.

\- But no more Taxi rides? -

No more taxi rides.

\- Thanks, Fernando - 

\- - - - - - - - - -

Head full of his own thoughts, Fernando finally stumbled into the right hotel. It wasn’t difficult to find, being the only five-star hotel around, but he was so distracted his feet were taking him wherever they liked. He headed towards the stairs, thinking more walking would do him good. But so distracted by forcing away thoughts that were determined to crush him, he forgot what floor he was on. 

Walking down the corridor he believed was his, his eyes glistened and his vision blurred. He was not going to allow himself to cry. He had known already that this fight was over when he arrived here, but he had let himself hope and that had made this horrid race so much harder to tackle. He had been subconsciously searching viciously for some kind of hope, some reassurance that could keep him motivated, but what he had found didn’t help. He was defeated.

As anger prickled threateningly under his skin he pushed away all thoughts that concerned racing. He was leaving early for Japan, which luckily was not a long flight. He would distract himself for the week trying not to think about the Championship he had inevitably lost, but he wouldn’t let himself hope again. 

He pushed open the already unlocked door and he assumed that Dasha had already come up to the room. He vaguely realised she wasn’t in and assumed she had gone out somewhere and would be back shortly. He sat for a few minutes on the end of the bed with his head in his hands, willing himself to gain some composure. After realising this wasn’t going to happen, he retired to the bathroom to shower and change before he climbed into bed…

\- - - - - - - - - -

After what had been another wretched race, Mark knew there was nowhere else he wanted to go but the bar. He couldn’t wait to leave the sport. On his seventh pint, he was starting to believe that the controversy about his and Sebastian’s cars were true. Maybe Horner really was using his car to make Vettel’s faster. And would he miss the German bastard or any of them at the Red Bull team once he had gone? Most probably not…

Defiantly not Seb, anyway. 

Looking at his watch and the slightly blurred hands that were ticking around, he registered the time as two-thirty-ish in the morning. The other drivers had returned to the hotel around seven to head to their respected rooms and he thought it was probably the best time to head to his. He finished the rest of his glass in one go and swung away from the bar. He knew how much he could drink and keep a clear head, but all of these crappy races recently had strengthened him. Whereas the seven pints he had drunk tonight would have had him clinging to the walls for support only three weeks ago, now he was just starting to feel a little buzz of drunkenness. Not enough for him to be in trouble, but enough to take the sting out of the day.

He remembered leaving his door slightly ajar so he wouldn’t have to fumble with the key card to collapse onto the bed as he walked into the lift and hit the button with three on it. The dull elevator music made him feel sleepy and he longed more and more for his bed. The surprisingly short journey to the third floor startled him somewhat as he found himself dosing against the wall.

He stepped out into the corridor and walked towards his room. As he approached, he noticed that someone had closed the door. He groaned internally. Probably one of the cleaning staff did it out of kindness but they obviously didn’t realise the hand-eye coordination he had lost in those seven pints. He extracted the stupid white card from his wallet with a little struggle and took a breath, hoping he could do this in one go. 

Fourteen attempts later and the taunting little red light above the handle changed to green. Surprised, he leapt at it before it could change it’s mind and burst through his door. Now happily inside – though a little angrier than he recently was – he shut the door with a soft click and threw the card with his wallet on the dresser. Running his hands over his face, he nearly fell straight onto the person in his bed. Luckily, considering he was using one hand to make sure he remained on his feet, he managed to stop himself collapsing onto the soft sheet. He curiously tilted his head to the right and looked down at the occupant of his bed.

It was Fernando.

What the hell was he doing in his bed? This was very unexpected and a small frown fell on Mark’s face. He moved forwards to arouse Fernando from his sleep when he realised the position he was sleeping in. He was racing. His back was pressed into the mattress, but his knees were lifted and his hands rested gently on his stomach. He was dreaming that he was racing. A small smile played on Mark’s lips as he watched Fernando gently twitch his head, going around corners. His fingers flexed every now and then as he changed gear or setting on his steering wheel. Mark knew he shouldn’t be watching, he should wake him up and explain that he had the wrong room, but the beer had fuzzed that part of his brain and another had taken over. Mark perched next to him on the bed.

However, even the slightest weight change to the car made Fernando realise that this race wasn’t real. He wasn’t beating Vettel by a country mile. He could see the chequered flag and so wanted to reach it, but his brain was already telling him that he had to wake up now. He didn’t want to return to reality; he wanted to stay with his dreams where he was happy. When his eyes did flutter open, though, he was not prepared for the sight in front of him. Mark was perched on the edge of the bed and was looking at him with a content look on his face. Had he been watching him sleep?

“Mark?” Fernando questioned as he rubbed his eyes. Mark loved the way Fernando made his name sound. But now he had to focus on keeping his cool, he put on an amused expression. 

“Yes, Fernando,” He said, making Fernando uncomfortable that there was something extremely funny about the situation that Mark was trying to suppress.

“What are you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” This made Fernando sit up and Mark stood up, leaning against the post at the end of the bed. Fernando looked confused and Mark focused on keeping up his act.

“What?” Fernando looked up at Mark who was still wearing that expression. 

“My bed, mate, so why are you in it?” Mark’s voice was clearly on the edge of laughter and it made Fernando blush. Focus, Mark he cooed at himself. 

“Erm…” His voice faltered, had he really mistaken Mark’s room for his own?

“I know it’s a good bed, but I am sure yours is pretty much the same,” Mark smiled as he crossed his arms. 

“Sorry, I just… When I… I got the wrong room,” Fernando stated, feeling more blood rush to his face as he got out of Mark’s bed. Mark saw that Fernando had obviously gotten himself completely confused as he recognised his own pyjama bottoms on the half naked Fernando. His smirk slid off his face and turned to genuine concern.

“I can see that… you’ve done it by a whole floor,” The last part was supposed to come out as a joke, a light-hearted comment. But his concern for Fernando had gotten the best of him and it was seeping all over his words. Fernando picked up on it. 

“Sorry,” He said, still not looking at Mark. He started to move towards the small chair where he had placed his clothes and his track bag. Still not in his right mind and totally dumbfounded by his current situation, he headed straight for the door with the clothes in his arms. Mark held the door closed. He smelt strongly of beer, but Fernando was impressed by how sober he was acting. 

“It’s alright… are you?” 

“I’m fine,” The words sounded foreign and not real coming from his mouth for the millionth time. The phrase he had exasperated the use of again found his lips. He still didn’t look at Mark.

“Really?” His hand slid from the door and Fernando took his chance. 

“Really. I am sorry, Mark. Good night.” Without another look at the Australian, Fernando dipped through the door and closed it with the same click. Mark’s words still hung on his tongue, but he swallowed them, knowing they wouldn’t be heard now. It was surreal to see Fernando, a guy he had never seen not composed, totally outside himself. Mark walked over to the bed and fell on top of it. The slight smell of Fernando’s scent hung lightly in the air. With another grunt of annoyance, Mark pushed himself off the sheets and moved over to the mini bar, pulling out all the small bottles of alcohol he could find. Unscrewing the first one, he sat on the floor at the end of the bed and downed it. This was something else he couldn’t wait to be away from: having to be around Fernando and having that pain of rejection loom over him. He had never asked the Spaniard, as he knew what the answer would be. He was with Dasha. Mark wasn’t prepared to loose their friendship over something as petty as that. He pulled the duvet off the bed and wrapped it around himself as he opened the second bottle. Just being friends hurt him so much, but he wasn’t about to risk everything for nothing. He closed his eyes and let the faint smell surround him; the mental image of Fernando in his pyjamas filled his mind…

\- - - - - - -

How could he have done that? He needed to sort himself out. It appeared that only when he focused on winning the Championship was he able to remain in a sane mind. And so that must be what he concentrated on: winning the Championship. Even know he knew it would hurt ten times as bad at the inevitable he had to keep some determination or he may as well stop. 

Focusing on where he was going now, he made the quick journey up the stairs to his floor. As he walked onto the forth floor, he realised he was still wearing Mark’s pyjamas that he had thought were his own. He looked at them properly now and realised they could never be his. The purple/blue colour resembled the team he hated some much he would never be caught dead in them. But the soft feel of the cotton on his legs was too welcoming – nothing like the things he normally wore to bed. He pulled his shirt over his head as he headed to his door. He extracted his key card from his jeans pocket and then stuffed the rest of his things in his bag, hoping Dasha wouldn’t realise the odd trousers he was sporting. He pushed against the door and let himself in. 

He knew it was late because all of the lights were off. He placed his bag just inside and closed the door softly behind him. He took a few steps towards the bed when he realised it was empty. Where was she?

“Dash?” he called quietly, worry started to fill his stomach. The blow to the back of his head made lights pop in his eyes. His hands flew straight to the point of contact as he turned to see his attacker – it was Dasha. Worry was replaced by confusion as he saw the bag he had just brought in by his feet; she had thrown it at him. “Das-”

“-You Arse Hole!” She screamed, turning to find something else to throw at him. The closest thing to hand was a cushion, which made satisfying contact with Fernando’s stomach. He stepped back winded as more confusion seeped over his features.

“What?” He said, trying to catch his breath. His eyes registered the empty glass just before her hand reached it and he dived out the way just in time for it to miss him and make contact with the wall, smashing. 

“All of the shit you told me! All of the lies you spoke! Was any of it true? At any point? You lying jerk!” She was moving closer to the more breakable items in the room and Fernando was alert to all the possibilities of danger that they would include. He had to stop her.

“Dash, what are you-?”

“-Where have you been?” She spat, poised with another glass in her hand. Fernando had made to move towards her, but froze at the question. A faint blush spread on his cheeks.

“I’ve just-”

“-And don’t even think about lying to me!” She threw the glass without any warning and it shattered on the wall above Fernando’s head. He threw his arms above his head to protect himself from the shower of glass. Luckily, he avoided impact, but the shards surrounded his feet and he was trapped, unable to reach Dasha.

“I made a mistake-” He started, intending on explaining to her how he had got the wrong room and then asking her to explain her rashness, but she interrupted him by opening her laptop screen and thrusting it towards him.

“-With her?” Dasha spat, her arms shaking with rage. Fernando took in the photo. It was from the Singapore Grand Prix and showed him and his PR agent walking away from the journalist pit. An entirely innocent photograph. Now Fernando was extremely confused.

“What?”

“I know what has been going on between you two, so just tell me so I don’t think you are a total wanker,” 

“Dash, nothing has been going on-”

“-Don’t LIE to me!” Tears were now brushing down her cheek and she put the laptop down, bringing her hands to her face and turning away from Fernando. He made a very cautious journey over to her, through the glass, but when he reached her, he softly took her hands and pulled them from her face. She still didn’t look at him.

“Dasha, I would never lie to you. I promise, nothing is going on with anyone else and me,” he made his words soft and brushed the tears from her face with gentle kisses. “I was too deep in my thoughts when I got back and I accidentally ended up in Mark’s room. Nothing happened. I swear. It’s only you,” A small smile was playing at her lips but she was fighting with it. Fernando pulled her over to the bed and sat of the edge, pulling her onto his chest. A few minutes of silence passed before she broke it.

“I’m sorry,” she curled closer to him, feeling guilty. 

“It’s alright,” he sighed, pulling her closer. “Who put that idea in your head anyway?”

“Sebastian,” she said, without thinking. Fernando tensed up.

“What?” He pushed her off him and looked at her face. Now she was the one blushing.

“Well, he caught up to me after the race and said he had seen you disappear with her. We have been talking for a while,” Anger was building in Fernando. What was the little shit trying to do now?

“So you thought you would trust him and not me?” Fernando spat, looking away from her.

“No, Nando, it wasn’t like that-”

“-Then what was it like?”

“I confide in him when I can't talk to-”

“You confide in him!” This was his worst nightmare. His girlfriend had been talking to the one man he could truly say he hated about things she couldn’t talk to him about, which probably meant him. He felt as if Sebastian had found a way into his head and was sitting there, smiling happily. “What else do you tell him? My tactics for Sundays? How good I am in bed?”

“Fernando!”

“No seriously, what do you tell him?” He feigned looking interested but he could already feel the anger burning through him.

“It is nothing that import-” She stopped in mid sentence, frowning. 

“What!” Fernando exasperated, sick of all the confusing looks. 

“Whose are they?” Dasha asked, pointing to his trousers. Dread dropped in his stomach. He couldn’t tell her they were Mark’s, it would appear too weird.

“That’s got nothing to do with-”

“Whose are they?” Fernando sighed with anger.

“They’re mine.”

“They’re not,”

“Does it matter?” Dasha contemplated him and he felt that that probably wasn’t the right thing to say.

“So why were you at Mark’s?”

“Why was I? What is this?”

“A question, Fernando,”

“I wound up in his room accidentally,”

“And what did he say when you turned up?”

“He wasn’t there.” Big mistake. Huge. He knew what he had done as soon as he had said it: opened the window. 

“So you appeared at Mark’s and no one was there?”

“Yes.”

“Were you alone?

“Yes!”

“But if I asked Mark he couldn’t tell me if you were, and what, you thought it would be fun to put on his clothes?”

“I wasn’t thinking, I just put them on after my shower,” And again.

“You showered?”

“Yes, Dash, because I was dirty,” Once more should seal the coffin. He didn’t even mean to say it, his anger had shut down his brain and he was just talking. But he could tell Dasha had had enough. She was heading for the door. “Dasha, no, you’ve got it wrong!”

“So, Mark sets you up a play date in his room and comes and retrieves you to send you back in the middle of the night so I won’t notice!”

“No, Dasha-”

“All those nights you have gone for 'drinks' with Mark!” her hands clasped over her mouth and Fernando worked out what was going on. Sebastian had suggested they go out for drinks. All of the drivers. He had said he would set it up but when it came to the night it was always just him and Mark. Seb always dropped a text saying no one else could make it. He was setting Fernando up for this moment. Probably filling Dasha with lies on those nights he wasn’t here. 

“They were just drinks! Nothing more!” But how could Sebastian have known he was going to wonder into Mark’s room tonight? He hadn’t planned it himself… maybe he had just been waiting for his chance. Sebastian knew Fernando went to Mark for solace. He had to just wait in the wings. As all of this was clicking in Fernando’s head, he barely realised Dasha was headed for the door.

“Dasha, wait! Let me-”

“I don’t want anything more from you, and I don’t even care if I'm not right! You are nothing to me, Fernando, so leave me alone! I don’t ever want to see you again!” He had a feeling this had much more behind it than tonight. He thought back to the faithful moment Vettel had walked past the garage and pestered him to introduce them. It had been over a year ago. And that was the time he had had to plant doubt in her head. A year full of lies, placed so strategically that it couldn’t be proved wrong. And what were Fernando’s word supposed to mean to her when she clearly didn’t trust him anymore. He followed her out into the corridor.

“Where are you going?”

“Where do you think?” She said spinning on her heels. He knew she meant to Vettel.

“Pre-arranged was it? Is he up there waiting for you to arrive so he can be gentlemanly and comforting, telling you how much of an arse I am?”

“He'll be awake now with you screaming down the place!”

“Heard yourself?” The final straw. He knew it. He knew he would want her back in the morning, but right now his anger had hold of him and he just wanted her to fuck off. “Just go, Dasha. You obviously prefer his company to mine and if you can be so gullible and stupid to be brainwashed so easily then he can have you… I don’t want damaged goods.” He turned his back on her with rage flowing through his veins. Back into his room, he slammed the door. It didn’t slam though; it was one of those fire doors that close really slowly, so he didn’t get the satisfaction he desired. He slammed himself on the bed and sprung back up slightly from the force. Now he was silent and calming down, the guilt and pain settled in his stomach. He had lost something else to the German cunt and his anger boiled below him again. His fists clenched and he shut his eyes, trying to think about something that would let him get to sleep.

\- - - - - - -

From a floor below, Mark had heard the entire incident. The last blow from Fernando was low and he knew the Spaniard would know it. In the silence that now ebbed, he sat frozen with the ninth bottle poised by his lips. The quiet ding of the lift made him aware that Dasha had just come down a floor to get to Sebastian’s room… the little shit was probably waiting for her in his room. Anger made Mark get up and walk over to his door. He pulled it open just to see Dasha heading his way.

“Dasha,” he said in an even tone. She looked away from him, the scent if alcohol nearly blinding her, and pretended he wasn’t there. As she passed his room, he caught her arm. “Dasha,”

“I don’t want to talk to you, Mark,”

“Dasha, anything he tells you,” he indicated to Sebastian with his head. “Is a lie. His words are poisonous. Don’t let him ruin what you have with Fernando,”

“I think Fernando did a pretty good job of that,”

“Dasha, he was angry, just let him calm down and he will apologise,”

“Why would he bother on damaged goods?” She pulled out of Mark’s grip and carried on down the hall. He planned on walking out after her, but as he took a step, his stomach made a violent turn. He knew that last bottle of pure spirit was too much. He dove back into his room and vomited violently into the toilet. As he brought himself into a sitting position, he heard Sebastian’s condescendingly soothing voice through the wall. He knew the German was talking loud enough so Fernando could hear him from upstairs. His hatred for his teammate tripled as he bent over the toilet again.


	2. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I went to a restaurant that serves 'breakfast at any time'. So I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance."  
> ~Steven Wright~

He woke up early with his face buried under the pillow. He was still in his initial landing position from last night, apart from the fact he had dragged a pillow over his head to drown out the words from downstairs that seemed to be echoing around his room. He threw the pillow away and pushed himself into a sitting position. Rubbing his eyes, he felt the damp remains of tears on his closed lids. His mind set on getting in the shower and washing away the reminiscence of the night before, he dropped off the bed. 

“Argh!” he fell back clutching his foot as he yelled. Forgetting the glass field that lay beyond his bed, he had pressed a shard of glass into his foot. Looking at the wound and biting back vulgarities, he pulled the glass from his foot. Luckily, the wound wasn’t deep but that didn’t stop the small rush of blood seeping from the line in his foot. He moved into the bathroom and cleaned it up, opening the packet of waterproof plasters so he could still shower. Purple. Of course the plaster was purple. He felt as though he was marking the wound as Sebastian’s work and begrudgingly pulled on his trainers and set about cleaning up the rest of the glass. 

He grabbed the napkins that were left on a tray that Dasha had obviously had delivered to the room last night when she was waiting for him. Pain threatened to strangle him as he realised how long she would have sat here alone with the worst thoughts possible flying around her head. He hated Vettel from planting them there but also hated himself for the way he reacted. He wanted to make this right, to show the German that he couldn’t just remove something so important from his life. After showering, he replaced his plaster with a non-waterproof one, relieved that this plaster was just nude coloured, and lay down on his bed, retrieving his phone. It didn’t take him long to find Dasha’s name. 

Dasha, we need to talk about last night. I said some things I am sorry about and I really want the chance to explain.

He knew there was much more he needed to say, but he would wait until they were face to face. Just the knowledge that she was in close proximity to Vettel made him tread carefully with his words; he didn’t want to give him the chance to twist them out of their true meaning. He wanted to pace around his room, but as he put his weight on his injured foot a small jolt of pain made him wince. If only a cut, it was in the worst possible place – on the ball of his foot. He gingerly tested it, knowing it would only be sore until the initial healing scab had formed. Around five minutes passed before his phone made him jump, vibrating next to him. He eagerly snatched it up.

I’ll meet you at breakfast in five minutes.

He limped over to his dresser and smoothened out the creases in his clothes that had formed from lying on the bed. Pressing his hand firmly onto the fly away hairs on his head, he fought to try and flatten them down but the persistently stayed strong and resisted. With a roll of his eyes, he slipped his feet carefully into his trainers, finding that the support made it easier to walk. With now only a slight limp, he picked up his key card and left the hotel room. He closed the door with a soft snap and was greeted by the vision of the lift. He had always hated the idea of the confined space that made him feel trapped and diverted his eyes from the lift, heading for the stairs. He was getting used to the hum of pain that was constantly in his foot and he knew the best thing for the injury was to not put weight on it. But this breakfast with Dasha was too important. He persevered.

As he reached the third floor, he looked towards the room he had accidently stumbled into last night. Something made him stop on his journey down the stairs and his head cocked curiously to the side. He had an urge to go to Mark and find out if he was OK. Having smelt how much alcohol he had consumed when he was trying to exit the room, he wondered if Mark was hung over or if he had heard any of the argument from last night. He was answered when the Australian appeared from his room, his hair a mess and wearing very dark sunglasses…He was hung-over. A small blush crept onto Fernando’s cheeks that he didn’t quite understand. Without a second thought, he turned away and continued down the stairs.

“Fernando?” Mark croaked and Fernando turned again, wearing the smug expression Mark wore last night. Mark clocked this but his head was pounding too much for him to react. 

“Mark,” Fernando waited for the Australian to catch up to him. 

“Bit early for you, isn’t it?”

“I have an appointment,” the smirk slid slightly from his face as he glanced at his watch. Two minutes. 

“Ahh, that’s where Dasha was heading,” Mark sighed as he caught up to Fernando. Fernando looked confused. 

“You saw Dasha?”

“She came down last night. Someone yelled this morning which woke me up,” Fernando blushed slightly at that fact. “And then I heard movement outside. Went over to the view-hole on the door and saw her walking towards the lifts. Vettel wasn’t there,” Small relief washed over Fernando as they started down the stairs. It was short lived when Mark grabbed his arm and stopped him moving. “Mate, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Fernando smiled, but Mark was looking at his feet.

“You’re limping,” Genuine worry covered Mark’s face. Fernando was hurt, why was Fernando hurt?

“Small cut, not an issue,” They continued down the stairs. 

“Where?”

“My foot, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“How did you cut your foot?”

“I forgot about the glass… Wasn’t thinking again,”

“Glass?” They had reached the ground floor and Mark had stopped him again. He turned Fernando towards him, trying to read behind the mask covering those deep brown eyes. Fernando shrugged him off. 

“Not important. I’ll explain later,” he clapped his hand on Mark’s back before moving away and heading towards the restaurant. His sole focus was making Dasha know that nothing happened last night and what he said was wrong and how deeply sorry he was. He walked over to the waitress standing behind the stand who would lead him to the right table. She smiled sweetly at him, but he was already looking for Dasha. 

“Can I help you, Sir?” She said, bringing his attention to her. She felt the need to be flirtatious with this man, but her gut instinct was that her efforts would be wasted; he was already looking for someone. His glossy brown eyes met her blue ones and he noticed the blonde hair spiralling down her back. She looked like a female Vettel. He pushed the thought from his mind. 

“Yes, I’m here to meet someone,” He forced the uncalled for anger out of his voice. She was just a person who had bleach blonde hair and blue eyes… Just a coincidence. 

“Mr Alonso?” His name brought him back to reality. The woman was looking at him again. 

“Yes,” 

“If you would like to follow me,” Again, the smile. All she needed to do was lift her index finger and wave it tauntingly in his face and he could believe it was really the German he hated so much. She didn’t look masculine; her open cleavage, make-up covered face and swinging hips were enough to make sure that mistake was avoided. It was her mannerisms and her unfortunately coincidental coloured features that made his blood boil. A few paces from the table, the waitress stopped and gestured to a two-seated table just in front of them. Dasha rose slightly from her chair as Fernando approached, giving a thanking nod to the waitress as he did. Dasha's eyes fell to his feet as he moved towards her, wincing slightly with the pain. 

“You're limping,” She stated when he was in front of her. Concern was corrupting her beautiful features and she knew before he said anything what he had done. 

“Nothing crucial, just a cut.” He smiled as he gestured for her to sit. She did and he followed suit. He let his right leg stretch out straight to take the weight off his injury. She still looked panicked. 

“The glass, I shouldn’t have…” he placed his hand on hers and rubbed soothing circles onto the back of her hand. 

“We both did things we shouldn’t have,”

“But you’re hurt,” 

“And I bet you were too. If not so still a little now.” He noticed she wasn’t looking at him and so he took his spare hand and cupped her face with it. Her eyes remained on the table, staring painfully at the saltshaker. “Dasha,” the softness in his voice made her look up. The tears she was willing not to fall waited restlessly in her eyes. “I am so sorry. What I said was too far. I do not think you are damaged goods, far from it. I couldn’t even begin to think of my life without you and I am willing so much to prove to you how much I trust and love you that I am not going to try and stop you talking with Sebastian.”

His last words surprised her and she felt her mouth fall into a perfect “o”. Fernando knew what he had to sacrifice to make this relationship work and if he was allowed someone to talk to when he couldn’t talk to Dasha, why couldn’t she? And if his main rival were the person she trusted to confide in, he would have to deal with it. He would trust her unconditionally until he was proven this was a mistake. His could hear a logical part of his brain screaming at him at the mistake he was making, but she had to know how much he trusted her. 

“I… I don’t need to-”

“-I have Mark, and I only think it is fair you have someone to talk to as well. If it is him that you trust, then I trust him too.” The sincerity in his eyes was too clear to be false. Fernando was facing the entrance of the restaurant and so he saw in his peripheral vision the waitress had moved back into the restaurant with someone in tow. He wasn’t focusing on her though, Dasha’s face was full of love and he knew he had righted his wrong. He hoped that the sting of his harsh angry words as she departed from him last night would not loom over her, but it seemed now there was nothing further from her mind. 

“And I'm sorry to, I shouldn’t have assumed like that-”

“-Dasha, you don’t-”

“-But I do! I was wrong to believe him over you, I trust you and I shouldn’t have let his concerns cloud that. He had only showed me the picture because he wasn’t sure what was going on and he was worried if there was something I would find out the wrong way. It was me who made the assumption, not him. And I am so so sorry. He explained to me that you were just angry and he was the one who said that meeting you for breakfast was a good idea…”

Her voice faded as he realised whom the waitress was seating. Directly in front of him, sitting on his own so no one could block his view of Fernando, Sebastian was settling into his seat with a knowing smile on his face. Fernando’s hand dropped from Dasha’s face, but she didn’t notice, avidly talking even though he was no longer listening. He knew, bone-crushingly, that Sebastian had set this whole scenario up. His presence was perfectly timed to let Fernando know that he was controlling his girlfriend’s move and now even maybe his own. That smile. An all-knowing smile. Sebastian had known the only way Fernando could get Dasha to trust him again is if Fernando himself trusted Vettel. He had known that his picture would plant the seed of doubt in Dasha’s mind, but come off as an innocent warning to Dasha, which she would convey to Fernando. The worst part? Sebastian had known Fernando would see right through each of his simple guises and knew that he would have to stand by and let it happen. Because to display distrust in Vettel would weaken the trust between Dasha and himself in their relationship. And Sebastian was presenting this all clearly in this smile. 

All he needed now was to raise his index finger. 

This was Sebastian’s test. He was making sure the last part of his plan was in place. To have Fernando around his little finger, making it nearly impossible to beat him. Because every action would have a reaction. If Vettel didn’t like something Fernando did, Dasha would be told another lie to spiral into chaos. And that was it. There was no way out if he wanted Dasha. Fernando couldn’t let Vettel know. He couldn’t know exactly how much of a hold he had over him. Without reacting to the fact he was sitting watching them, Fernando turned his eyes back to Dasha. 

“…And so I thought that would be nice. What do you think?” Dasha’s eyes were wide with hope. He knew Sebastian was watching and it was important this last truth stayed under wraps. Unknowingly, he agreed to whatever she proposed. Making sure she was happy would prevent Vettel from hearing her moan about him and letting him know his final answer. 

“Sounds great,” He smiled which was echoed back to him in Dasha’s face. Glowing, she squeezed his hand encouragingly as she pushed back her chair. 

“Wonderful, I’ll arrange it when we are in Japan,” She rose and held out her hand to him, he accepted it. “Come on, we have a plane to catch soon.” So caught up in her happiness, Dasha didn’t realise Vettel’s presence as they swept from the restaurant. One thing that didn’t go unmissed, Fernando saw angrily, was that Vettel picked up his small limp, and Vettel knew he had caused it. The two men shared a brief, knowing look and Vettel’s smirk widened as he sipped from his coffee. 

\- - - - - - - - - -

Mark was just about to head back up to his room after having a coffee at the bar and reading the newspaper when he saw Fernando and Dasha emerge from the restaurant. He was glad to see how happy Dasha looked, knowing Sebastian had not gotten between them, but the smile slid quickly off his face when he took in the Spaniard’s face. Anger. Pure anger. Confusion spread through his mind. How could Dasha be so joyful but Fernando looked as if he were about to kill? His question was answered mere moments later when Sebastian appeared from the same place Fernando and Dasha had, a euphoric smirk all over his face. Mark caught up to him in a couple of strides. 

“Seb, walk with me,” He caught the young German’s arm in his grasp and ushered him out of the hotel onto the street.

“Mark, what are you doing? I have a plane to catch soon,”

“I’ll make it quick,” He released his arm as they rounded into a small, wide alley between the hotel and it’s neighbouring building. Sebastian rubbed his arm. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What are you doing with Dasha and Fernando?” the small smirk crept back on Sebastian’s face and Mark fought strongly with the urge to punch him in the face. 

“What would make you say that?”

“Don’t play games with me, Seb,” He had caught his teammate by the collar and pinned him to the wall. Fear flickered in Sebastian’s eyes and the smirk was no longer visible.

“I’m not doing anything!” He protested, trying to wriggle free of Mark’s grasp, but it was too tight. 

“I swear to God if you do anything to mess them up you will have me to answer to,” Mark pushed his face close to Sebastian’s to make him certain this was a genuine threat. 

“I’m not planning anything! It’s not my fault she confides in me!” Mark had noticed the visits Dasha had made to the Red Bull motorhome and was keeping an eye. It had all seemed innocent, but he never trusted Vettel.

“Which was also probably something to do with you and mind games. Leave them be, they are happy. You have already taken so much from him, why must you take more?” It was a genuine question. But he was not ready for the answer. 

“Because I can. I am better than him and I am proving to him that I am superior, he needs to learn,”

“You don’t think beating him at the last minute in two world championships is enough?” Mark was growling now and he could see Sebastian’s confidence faltering. 

“I want it to be personal. I want him to know I am everywhere, always with him. I want him to respect me,” Mark’s fist collided with his chest before he could stop himself. He let Sebastian crumple to the floor, winded and he stepped back. He knew the worst he had done was made him breathless for a moment, but the satisfaction of watching him crumple under his fist was enough. 

“I swear to God, Seb. Don’t test me,” Mark spun on his heels, trying to let his anger seep away from him, but Sebastian had found his voice. 

“It would benefit you, you know. Win win for you and I,” Mark froze looking at his teammate. Did he really think? He couldn’t believe- He was stereotyping them the same: Selfish.

“I want what’s best for him, not myself,” Mark stated, wanting to make it clear they did not think the same. Sebastian got up and brushed himself down as he moved towards Mark. 

“Keep telling yourself that,” He said, barging Mark’s shoulder heavily with his own. It threw the Australian momentarily off balance and he stood, gobsmacked and speechless as his young, destructive teammate headed back into the hotel.


	3. Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power."  
> ~Abraham Lincoln~

"A bruise! You punched him!" Christian was furious. What would the press say if this got out? There was already enough speculation around. And everyone knew the tension between his two drivers. He tried not to take sides in their little fights, normally just leaving them too it, but if Mark was punching him now: that was too far. He dropped the front of Sebastian's shirt who placed a protecting hand over his torso. Sympathy split across Christian's face - as he saw pain in his number one driver's eyes - which faded quickly when he advanced on Mark. "Any particular reason?" Mark knew he couldn't tell him the truth. For one, he wouldn't believe that Saint Vettel could plan such a thing, call him petty and tell him to get over himself. No one knew about his feelings for Fernando (apart from Seb) and even with this information Christian would take Sebastian's side. And secondly, to tell Christian the truth and that he did it because Sebastian deserved it would defiantly get him DNFs for the rest of the season. So he must lie.

"I drunk too much after the race, it got out of hand," he muttered darkly, not looking at anyone and glaring at the ground. It wasn't complete lie, but he had gotten so used to being untruthful to his team principle that the words fell off his tongue in a genuine voice. The walls of the new hotel room seemed to be antagonising him, spreading far away so he felt like he was standing in a void alone. He knew Christian would defend Vettel and it singled himself out. He felt alone. Very alone. 

"Do we need to get someone watching you? I can't have my drivers drinking on the job! Do you have a problem?" 

Yes, my cunt of a teammate. "No, it was a one off. It won't happen again."

"I should hope not. Can I trust you won't get into any more trouble before the race this weekend or do I have to keep you occupied?" 

"I'll be fine," Mark was loosing his patience rapidly and could see the utter joy emitting from Sebastian as he glared at him over Christian's shoulder. Christian didn't pick up on it, but it seemed to make Sebastian happier. Prick. 

"Good, now I want you to say away from alcohol. We can't have you accidental ending up in a bar fight before the race. I need you in your best condition." Christian patted Mark's shoulder briefly before departing the room. It was Sebastian's room, but Mark wasn't going anywhere without making his point. Sebastian waited patiently. 

"Happy? Had to go running to Daddy because a big boy beat you up?" Mark spat, still glaring at Sebastian. His dark glare penetrated into Sebastian and the German had to fight hard to keep his confident composure. He wasn't sure how far he could push Mark; he believed he was retiring at the end of the season as he had pushed him too far and the Australian was worried if he hung around any longer he would snap. He wanted to test that boundary. He would be happy to make him snap. 

"Can't have me off form now, can we..." He moved tantalising close to Mark. "Four championships is not an easy burden to carry, but look who I'm talking to," he stepped back and looked mark up and down as if he were dirt on the floor, folding his arms. "You don't even know what it feels like to carry one." For the second time in a very short space of time, Mark had Sebastian pinned against the wall. 

"You need to be very careful, Seb, I'm not sure you can handle the big boys game... There are no Daddies allowed," Mark was getting to Sebastian. He was not a little boy who ran to his Daddy, he was almost a four-time world champion! And he deserved to be shown some respect from his number two...

"You can't get close to me, I'll make sure of that," Mark scoffed. He wanted to break the confident look on Seb's face, but it didn't look to be going anywhere. 

"Call for Daddy? Is the big boy making you cry?" He put on a childish, whinny voice as he spoke, but the eager joy just built in Sebastian's eyes. 

"Not just the races, Mark, there are things on and off the track that I don't think you want to see in pain... Made that clear in Korea..." Sebastian tapped his stomach where the small bruise was. Mark knew the bruise didn't hurt anymore, just another act, but Sebastian's expression got him. Manipulative. There was a brief moment where Mark drew his teammate so close, his rage building rapidly under the surface and he didn't know what he was going to do. A flash of white rage covered his vision before Sebastian's expression broke through. And he knew he couldn't. There was nothing he could do to him. If he did, it would have repercussions for Fernando. And he couldn't. He released Sebastian and headed for the door. 

"Good, you do understand," Sebastian said as he brushed down his clothes. Mark was already heading for the door, but Sebastian wasn't done yet. "Now go and be a good Number Two and maybe you might get to finish this race..." Mark turned to look at Sebastian in disbelief. Seb had a serious look on his face, but the joy was still dancing in his eyes. He pointed his index finger at Mark. "And no talking with other drivers, can't risk our tactics getting out, can we," Sebastian's mocking grin was the last thing Mark saw before he departed from the room. More white rage in his eyes and his hands clamped tightly into fists. 

"And no drinking, you can't risk anymore slip ups... Next time I might not cover for you," Vettel's voice drifted down the corridor but Mark didn't stop. He stalked down the corridor and disappeared into his room. As he fell onto the bed, he realised someone had been in and removed all of the alcohol from his mini bar. Christian. 

No, he could not wait to leave this team.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Was interesting the right word? No, not interesting. Painful? Possibly closer, but it still didn't summarise the meal he had just encountered. Pitiful? Of himself, yes. But he still couldn't put it into words. He should have listened to Dasha in Korea, he could of avoided it... No. He was never going to avoid an encounter like this again. This was how it had to be if he still wanted Dasha. And he did. So he would have to suffer in silence. 

He walked out of the restaurant alone. It was late and all he wanted to do was leave. He had to spend long enough with Sebastian around the track and now in his social time too? But Dasha wanted them to get along. So they had to get along. He folded his arms with his back still to the door. Why had Dasha thought a meal would help them become friends? They were never going to be friends. It had turned into Fernando becoming very reserved and making a point of letting Vettel know he didn't have anything over him. Although he did, he didn't want the German to know that he knew he did. He finally heard the door open behind him and release the sounds from the restaurant; he was no longer alone.

Instinctively, he moved to Dasha and wrapped his arm around her waist protectively. He knew Vettel had picked up on his body language and knew Fernando was marking his place as Sebastian smirked as he pulled on his jacket. Dasha leant into Fernando's hold, using his sober frame to support her in her slightly tipsiness. 

"Tonight was fun," Dasha smiled at the pair of them, having been oblivious to the snap comments and hidden messages in both of their words during the evening once she had had a glass of wine. Sebastian looked triumphant, but Fernando remained emotionless. Keeping his arm around Dasha, he began to usher her back towards the hotel which was a short walk away. Sebastian fell into step beside them. 

"You're not in our hotel," Fernando commented, confused. Sebastian turned a devious face towards Fernando, hidden from Dasha as she had curled her head right into the Spaniard. 

"There was a change of plan," 

"What?" He nearly stopped walking, anger beginning to seep into his skin. But he forced himself on. For Dasha. 

"Yeah, there were some issues with Mark so I moved to another hotel," he shrugged and turned his head forwards, a hint of glee still present in his eyes. "Not an issue." 

"There's always been issues between Mark and you, what makes this week so different?" 

"I need to be able to focus so I can win the championship," Dasha saved Fernando from retorting. 

"Nano'll beat you, you wait," she muttered into his shirt. Now it was Fernando's turn to look smug. Sebastian may be manipulating her actions, but she still loved him and wanted to see him succeed. He pulled her closer to him which made her straighten up and wrapped her arm around his waist. Now with Dasha being able to see Sebastian he knew the championship conversation would stop. 

"Of course," Sebastian smiled gently at her, humouring her in her wine effected state. Both Fernando and Sebastian had avoided the bottle of wine that was ordered to the table, wanting to keep a clear head when talking to each other. But this had meant Dasha had ended up drinking most of it herself. 

Silence ebbed between the trio as they finished their journey and wound up in the reception of their hotel. 

"Well, I guess this is good night then," Sebastian smiled at the couple he stood next to. 

"It was a lovely evening, we should do it again some time," Dasha commented as she detangled herself from Fernando. He kept his hand securely wrapped in hers as she move towards Seb, saying goodbye. 

"Defiantly, very amusing," Sebastian concluded. Still not the right word. Dasha looked over to Fernando with that same hope in her eyes. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he smiled weakly and gave a small nod. For her. He was doing it for Dasha. "Excellent." 

"Good night, Seb," Dasha said. Sebastian placed a small kiss on each of her cheeks before turning to Fernando. He held out his hand. 

"Fernando," Fernando took his hand and shook it once, letting go of Dasha. He went to pull out of the grasp but found Sebastian's fingers clamped tightly down. The pressure was worsening. Sebastian was squeezing Fernando's hand tightly, watching the pain flick into his eyes. Fernando tried again to pull out of his grip, but failed. Sebastian was sending him a message. Finally, the bone-crushing pain subsided and he had his hand free. He rubbed it softly with the other keeping his eye contact with Sebastian. He knew what his message was, he just didn't know how to take it.

More pain is yet to come. 

"Good night," Fernando stated, whisking Dasha back under his arm he lead them to the stairs. 

"Nano, the lift," Dasha pined as he directed her to the stairs. His eyes fell on the mocking metal doors staring at him and he turned his head feeling ashamed. He couldn't. The confinement was too much.

"You know I can't," he muttered weakly at her. She pulled him closer, feeling horrid that she had forgotten. 

"Sorry, s'OK," she rubbed soothing circles on his back as they started their climb of thirteen flights of stairs.

Sebastian stood where they had left him in the middle of the reception, taking in the scene between the two of them as they departed up the stairs. He didn't know Fernando hated lifts...

\- - - - - - - - - - 

Be a good Number Two and maybe you'll get to finish this race...

Sebastian's words were still echoing in Mark's head as he entered the tack on Thursday. A day full of press conferences was really not something he wanted to divulge in but he knew he just had to tackle today and then it would be over. Number Two. He was a much better driver than a number two. When Sebastian joined the team he had expected him to fall into the number two roll and let Mark and his experience lead the team, but that had not been the case. Seb had always been the golden boy and would probably continue to be after Mark had left the sport. Red Bull was Vettel's team. 

Anger pulsed through him as he buzzed himself into the paddock. Was he really that readable? Sebastian had sure as hell worked out how to manipulate him, could anyone else? And if so, did everyone else know how he felt about Fernando? He was pulled from his thoughts when someone called his name.

"Mark!" the perfectly rolled 'r' made him aware that it was Fernando before he even turned around. He was hit with pain in his stomach as he fought with the urge to tell Fernando what Sebastian was doing, but the Germans words were still fresh in his mind and he couldn't risk it. He stopped and put in a smile, waiting for the Spaniard to catch him up. 

"How's it going, mate?" Mark asked as they fell into step together. 

"Are you OK?" Fernando asked, seeing thorough the disguise of Mark's smile. Mark brushed it off as if it didn't matter. 

"Nah, fine, mate. Just tired - I've had a lot to do," even though he had told Christian he didn't need occupying, he was made so anyway and had barely had a chance to relax. 

"I noticed, shame you couldn't make dinner last night," a dark tone was coming through in Fernando's voice and concern began to ebb into Mark. 

"That bad?" He joked, though there was an edge to his voice that made him sound a bit more serious. "I thought Dasha and you were OK?" 

"Not her, her new friend," 

"Sebastian came to dinner last night," 

"Mmm... She wants us to get along," 

"Good luck," 

"Would have been easier if you were there... Could have fazed him out..." Mark fought away the hope that bubbled inside him at Fernando's words of wanting his support. He wanted to give it to him. He wanted to support Fernando... But he couldn't... It was too complicated.

"Hello, boys," A second voice penetrated into Mark's head and for the second time he found himself knowing the owner of the voice without needing the visual aid. The new comer wrapped his arms around the two men's shoulders and brought them closer to him with a joyous smirk on his face. Fernando and Mark both turned away with dark looks on their faces. "How are we this fine morning?" 

"Fine thank you, Sebastian," Mark said as he pushed his teammates arm off his shoulder. Fernando did likewise. 

"Don't sound it, very hostile. Does he sound hostile to you, Fernando?" As Sebastian turned to looking at Fernando he subtly nudged Mark in the ribs in a knowing, suggestive manner. 

"Not particularly, maybe it's just the situation," Fernando answered, still looking forwards. Sebastian shrugged and turned directly on Fernando, stopping him from walking on by grabbing his arm. Fernando tried to keep an emotionless face as he folded his arms. Mark stopped too. 

"Wondered if I could have a word, found something that might interest you," Sebastian said. Clocking the dubious look Fernando passed to Mark over Sebastian's shoulder, Sebastian added: "In private," Fernando shrugged and let Sebastian lead him away from the crowded paddock. As Sebastian passed, he made sure to get his face very close to Mark's before smirking and giving him a wink. Mark could do nothing but let the anger boil within him as his best friend was dragged away. 

Sebastian walked behind a truck so as to make sure no one else could see them. He could see the confusion and intrigue faintly on Fernando's face through his bored expression. When they were hidden away, he let go of Fernando's wrist and the Spaniard folded his arms, retaining the bored façade. 

"Where's Dasha?" Sebastian asked, catching Fernando by surprise. He still remained emotionless, reminding Sebastian a lot of Kimi. 

"Coming down later." Fernando answered bluntly. Short answer. Very Kimi-esque Sebastian mused. 

"I would have thought she would have come with you?" 

"Not much happening here today," he deliberately didn't mention the fact they were meeting for lunch; he didn't want a repeat of last night. 

"You like to wander, don't you," Sebastian stated, again catching Fernando off guard. Where was he going with this?

"What do you want?" 

"Nothing bad, just thought you might want to see this," Sebastian held out his phone to Fernando and he looked down at the picture he was showing him. It showed himself - Fernando - walking into one of the love hotels in Korea. One of the hotels he had accidentally stumbled into when he was trapped in his own head. Keeping his head pointed towards the phone, he met eyes with Sebastian, looking confused. 

"I don't understand," 

"Well, what do you think other people would make of this image?" It started to sink into Fernando where Sebastian was going with this. He knew that he had only been in the hotel around thirty seconds before he turned around and left, but other people didn't. And if it was anonymously handed over to the press with the right rumour attached to it... 

Dasha. 

And he knew what Dasha would assume if she saw the image. Fernando had left the track, disappeared for over five hours and then reappeared wearing strange clothes and if she saw the image, she would think this is where he had been. A love hotel. And gone in alone which meant people would assume he was- 

Sheer panic was covering Fernando's face and Sebastian grinned triumphantly. He had finally got his answer from the breakfast in Korea. Yes, he had Fernando right where he wanted him. 

"But I went in by accident," the expressionless mask was gone and replaced by panic as Fernando spoke. 

"I know," Sebastian said, sympathetically.

"And I wasn't in there longer than thirty seconds," Fernando was not longer looking at the German. Sebastian pulled Fernando back under his shoulder which brought Fernando back to his senses. He composed himself. 

"And I know that too... But other people don't," Sebastian looked over at Fernando who was still not looking at him. "I would hate for Dasha to see this and get the wrong impression..." With his façade back in place, Fernando pushed Sebastian's arm off him again and folded his arms, looking bored. 

"Is that all?" He said monotony. A hint of confusion pulled into Sebastian's eyes.

"You don't seem too bothered by that concept," he stated. Fernando remained unfazed. 

"Just a photo, Dasha knows where I was that evening... As do you," 

"So you wouldn't mind if she saw it then?" Sebastian was testing him. And he knew he needed to remain unfazed to prove he didn't have any power over him. He shrugged. "Very well..." As Sebastian's fingers slid across the screen of his phone to send the image to Dasha, Fernando's impulses took over his pride. His eyes flicked between Sebastian's face and the phone in his hand. Sebastian activated voice control and held the phone to his lips. 

"How can I help you?" The phone asked him. Fernando still stood as he was, but he could feel the panic rising in him. He knew he had nothing to hide, but he knew Sebastian was right and what Dasha would assume. 

"Send selected image to Dasha," Sebastian replied. A few moments of silence and the phone brought up the image in a text message awaiting to be sent. Sebastian turned the phone towards Fernando. 

"Ready to send?" The phone questioned, and before Fernando could stop himself, he stepped forwards and held a hand out towards the phone. 

"No!" He said, panic dripping from his words and evaporating over him. He had cracked. Broken his mask and showed Sebastian what was underneath. He had let Sebastian know he had a hold over him. Their eyes locked. Panicked deep brown against joyous crystal blue. They were still for a moment. 

"Cancel," Sebastian muttered to the phone and watched the relief wash over the older man in front of him. Satisfaction was pumping through his veins.

"Message cancelled," He locked his phone and returned it to his pocket. Fernando was looking at the floor having folded himself within himself. A faint blush was visible on his cheeks. Sebastian clapped a hand on his shoulder as he passed him, Fernando retained his glare at the floor. 

"Have a good race," As Sebastian walked away, leaving Fernando alone, he ran his hands over his face. A whole host of emotions were burning through him: grief, anger, disappointment, frustration...

He lashed out and kicked hard into a dustbin that was nearby. Being made of tin, it gave a satisfactory clang as it tumbled to the ground, spewing garbage all over the floor. He looked back over at the retreating figure of Sebastian and saw the suggestion of a smirk spread across his turning head. 

He had done it. Sebastian had gotten into Fernando's head.


	4. Japan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Japan's very interesting. Some people think it copies things. I don't think that anymore. I think what they do is reinvent things. They will get something that's already been invented and study it until they thoroughly understand it. In some cases, they understand it better than the original inventor."  
> ~Steve Jobs~

Eighth? One stupid picture and he was staring eighth? He couldn’t blame anyone but himself this time; Felipe had happily put it fifth. It was him. He hadn’t pushed hard enough. He was the one who was distracted. And now he had to start eighth. Yes it was great that Sebastian wasn’t on pole and yes it was great that Mark had managed to get the front spot, but eighth? He had it all to fight for and all to loose. Last year swam into his mind… He couldn’t afford to not finish…

\- An interesting qualifying today, Fernando, what was the problem? - 

Nothing. There wasn’t one. I have not had a very good weekend so far and it is important that I try to make up the places tomorrow. 

\- We all know how effective your starts can be and that you have a stronger race pace than qualy pace, so where are you hoping for tomorrow? -

Yeah, the Mercedes are both in front so it is important for us to finish in front of them for the Constructors’ as they are only a point behind. Top five, hopefully I think is realistic for us, but I will try to recover these positions tomorrow… 

The interview wrapped up as the journalists wanted to speak to the other drivers. He moved out of the journalist pit grateful no one had questioned him about the Driver’s Championship. He ran his hand over the back of his neck whilst exasperating, heading back to find Dasha in the Ferrari Motorhome. As he headed away with his PR agent, Mark, Sebastian and Lewis walked past him, heading in the direction he just left. He clasped Mark's hand in congratulations, smiling with the words he couldn’t say. He darted his eyes quickly to avoid making eye contact with Sebastian…

He sighed in liberation as he passed them without a word.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Fernando had been reserved throughout the entire weekend and it wasn’t going unmissed by anyone. Especially not Mark. He had noticed that he wasn’t his usual self when they were relaxing before qualy – after practice three. Mark had assumed that it had something to do with the thing Sebastian wanted to show him, but didn’t press the matter with him whilst Dasha was around, which she was between final practice and qualy. He knew that it would only spark up more problems between them, which Mark didn’t want to do… He thought. 

There was a small selfish part of him that knew if Fernando wasn’t with Dasha then Sebastian would have nothing to hold over his head and this power play would be irrelevant. It was the same part of him that wanted to tell Fernando how he felt every time he saw him. But it was a small, miniature part of him and he wasn’t going to let it make things awkward between him and the Spaniard. It wasn’t worth it and he would rather have him as a friend than not have him at all. 

He had just emerged from the Red Bull Motor home having changed from his racing gear and heading off towards his car when he saw them. Dasha and Fernando were walking towards him, unaware that he was there as they were talking quietly to each other; both invested one hundred per cent in the conversation. Without thinking twice, Mark dove back into the motorhome and hid beside the glass clear door on the inside. He grasped his bag close to his chest and waited, totally covered from view due to the wall he was leaning against. 

“…And I'm not saying that, it’s just difficult when you’re shutting me out,” He could hear Dasha’s voice drifting closer to where he hid, muffled by the wall but still clear enough to be heard. 

“I’m not trying to shut you out, Dash, its just been a rough day,” Fernando’s voice made his breath catch in his throat. 

“It’s always been a rough day, I thought we promised no secrets,”

“I’m not keeping-”

“Mark?” The new voice made Mark snap his head forwards, loosing the end of Fernando’s sentence. Mark was silhouetted from the light coming through the door and Sebastian was squinting to make him out. Mark was too worried about being over heard by Fernando and Dasha – who now had to be very close – that he remained silent. “What are you doing?” The German began to walk towards his teammate but stopped short as the couple passed. He looked from Mark to Fernando and saw that Mark had his eyes closed; apparently trying to dissolve into the darkness he had surrounded himself in. The smirk pulled at Sebastian’s lips as he watched and waited for Fernando to pass before he continued to Mark. “They’ve gone,”

Mark took a risking glance to his right and saw out of the door that they had passed by. He exhaled. He had assumed that Seb was going to reveal to Fernando that he was hiding from him and was pleasantly shocked to find him helping him. That was short-lived. 

“Hiding? Have you finally realised I'm right?” Sebastian asked. Mark didn’t even acknowledge his presence or comment and left the motor home, setting off again in the direction of his car. Sebastian jogged to catch up with him and matched his pace beside him. He remained silent. 

“I’m not going to help you,” Mark snapped when his presence overwhelmed him. He knew that Sebastian was waiting for him to answer and it unnerved him that his teammate knew that he would, how he knew him so well.

“But that’s not a no on the I was right thing?” Sebastian teased. Mark glared at him. 

“It’s irrelevant. Even if you were I wouldn’t help you; I want what makes him happy,” Mark was annoyed that it was Sebastian he had to confide all of this stuff with. But unfortunately, Seb was very good at listening and saying the right things to make you feel better. He was very easy to open up to and he brought the information out of you before you realised what you were doing. He remembered it too clearly, that initial revelation. Just after the emotional race of Abu Dhabi in 2010 when Mark had almost won his first championship, but Sebastian beat him to the post. Everyone in Red Bull was celebrating except Mark. He had retired to his room in the motor home, and Sebastian had come to find him, wondering where he had gone…

“But part of you wants to help me?” Sebastian questioned. What Mark hadn’t realised was how the openness was two-way. Mark stopped walking and glared at him deeper, making sure his shoulders were square. 

“No. There is no part of me that wants to help you break them up. I can’t even begin to understand why you would want to,” Mark’s hands had balled into fists and he was fighting the urge to bruise more of the German. But it was too public and he had to contain his rage. 

“I explained-”

“But it doesn’t make sense. You want to prove your power beat him in another Championship or humiliate him in public. Aiming to tear down a solid foundation is a low move and you are only trying to do it to demoralise him. If you really are friends with Dasha don’t you want her to be happy?” The look of clarity on Sebastian’s face made Mark sure he had broken through the blur of his mind and made him see sense. 

“You’re right… it’s not fair to her,” Sebastian shrugged and carried on walking. Subconsciously, Mark followed. 

“So will you back off?” He needed confirmation so he could relax. Sebastian nodded and visibly saw Mark loosen his muscles. It was as if a great weight was hanging over his shoulders and someone had removed it. He felt his face fall into its normal relaxed smile. 

“Good qualy today,” Sebastian commented. Mark was unsure of where he was heading with this conversation and focused more on extracting his keys as they neared his car. “Shame it was hollow,” he muttered in a jokey tone. 

“Nice to be driving a car that works,” Mark said in the same tone. 

“You were a good boy this week,” Mark froze. He wasn’t sure if Sebastian was just so lucky that coincidence was falling into play and was working with him to make this statement appear true or if it was in fact the truth. He couldn’t believe the whole team would rig his car to fail just because he pissed Sebastian off… But Red Bull was his team… 

“What?”

“You behaved, did as I asked, so I thought it would be helpful to have you up front,” He smiled genuinely and Mark was trying to break through his expression to see any hint of the truth unsuccessfully. 

“Aren’t you worried it will back fire and I will win?”

“Not an issue if you win, just prolonged the Championship, give your friend another chance to catch up and make it exciting.” There was another moment of silence where the two men just looked at each other. Mark was trying desperately to get something out of the placid facial expression he was faced with but there was nothing. Sebastian was making sure he could not be read. Mark opened the passenger door and dropped his back on the seat. Closing it he turned back to Sebastian. 

“See, you’re worrying me now, Seb, because I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Mark said in an even tone. Sebastian shook his head and laughed silently to himself. 

“You’re very funny, Mark, I will miss that about you next year,” Mark didn’t truly understand Sebastian’s comment, but he let it slide. He had to get back to his hotel so that he could have his de-brief with Simon and discuss the tactics for tomorrow’s race. He moved over to the drivers seat and opened the door. 

“Did you know Fernando does not like lifts?” Sebastian queried, catching Mark by surprise. Confusion spread on the Australian’s face. 

“Yeah, he hates the feeling of the confined space. I think he doesn’t like the idea of how the lift could fall and being trapped is the last thing he knows. It’s rooted back to him not liking the feeling of being trapped, having no escape…” Mark’s voice faded as he realised, yet again, he was opening up and telling Sebastian a lot about his friend. Suspicion crept into his mind. “Why?”

“Curious, I noticed I have never seen him take a lift,” Sebastian shrugged, satisfied with the information. Mark watched as Sebastian began to head back to the paddock. He walked backwards still looking at Mark. “I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully we’ll both have a good race!” Mark smiled slightly and nodded in agreement with him. Sebastian raised his hand in a signal of departure and Mark echoed the movement. Yes, lets hope he had a good race tomorrow. He also hoped for Fernando…

He really wanted to see that smug look wiped off Sebastian’s face once and for all. 

\- - - - - - - - - -

So close. He had been so close to getting some closure from Malaysia. Pit-stop strategy was wrong. If he had done a two-stop he would have won. It hollowed his second place slightly, but he had still done that. He had finished on the podium: he had finished second. The smile was still strong on his face as he finally retired to the Red Bull motor home to change from his race suit. It had been a good day. Sebastian hadn’t won the Championship and Fernando hadn’t done too badly. He changed swiftly into his Red Bull shirt and jeans before grabbing his bag and swinging it out of his shoulder. 

He had forgotten how long it took to leave the track when you were on the podium. It was refreshing to be hanging around this late. He had been so excited about being on the podium he had prematurely started the champagne celebrations, but he didn’t care. The acceleration of actually finishing a race and being on the podium was too much and he could still feel the joy seeping out of him. 

As he left his room, he noticed – for once – that the Red Bull team members that were packing away were not sulking away from him, avoiding his eye. They clasped his hand, they waved with a gesture of a raised hand, they clapped him on the back. They were congratulating him. And it felt good. He walked through the paddock with his head high, feeling for once in a very long time the support of his team. He forgot all about the sudden pit strategy change and accepted their congratulations all the way to his car. 

As he sat in his car, his phone buzzed alerting him he had a message. Closing the door he opened it up; it was from Sebastian:

Took your advice. Thought you might want to see.

Panic dropped into Mark’s stomach. What advice could he have possibly given Sebastian and what the hell did he mean by the fact he had taken it? His fingers shook slightly as he typed his reply. 

What? What advice?

Mere seconds passed before he had a reply.

About Fernando. 

And now he was right to be panicking, because this could only mean bad things for the Spaniard. He could almost sense Sebastian on the other side of the screen willing him to be lured in. Yes, his teammate did know him too well. He had had just over four years to familiarise himself with the way Mark worked. It was if he was reading his mind when the next text came through.

Meet at the hotel.

He knew this meant Sebastian and Fernando’s hotel and without a second thought he dropped his phone on the seat beside him and sped off in the direction of the meeting point. The journey was a complete blur. He was sure he jumped a red light, but it was too important that he reach Fernando and whatever trouble Sebastian had set up for him. Mark’s head was rapidly replaying the conversation they had had yesterday, hoping to find some clue as to what this could mean. But his mind focused on how wrong he was that he thought he had changed Sebastian’s mind. He hadn’t changed anything, just given him an idea. And that thought worried him more than anything else. 

He dumped the car rather than park it just up the road from the hotel. His panic was overtaken by his determination as he grabbed his phone and leapt from the seat. When he reached the front of the hotel Sebastian was nowhere to be seen. He fumbled with his phone before hastily sending a message.

Where are you? I’m outside the hotel.

More panic jumped through Mark as he thought that maybe he had assumed the wrong hotel. He paced for a few moments, every other stride or so looking up at the name of the hotel to make sure it was the right one. A few minutes had passed and he decided that he had got to the wrong hotel. Anger pulsed through him and he took the first step towards his car, knowing the drive was at least seven minutes when you didn’t have all of this traffic around. He was never going to make it to stop Sebastian. 

“Mark, over here,” Sebastian called, appearing from the side of the hotel. Without thinking twice, Mark turned on his heels and followed Sebastian around to the back of the hotel. He was shocked with the view that he met. There was a monitor on top of a trolley that was flicking through the security camera images. A control panel was rigged to the hotels electric generator that stood looming over them to the right. Two men were already there, one looking like a manger of the hotel and the other he recognised from the Red Bull garage, although he was dressed in a maintenance uniform. Sebastian looked impressed with the set-up and was eager to share it with Mark, although Mark had a feeling this was not just set up five minutes ago…

\- - - - -

The best from what he had today. That was what he had told the media. And it was the truth. He had passed Massa, passed Ricciardo and passed Hulkenburg. The last one had been satisfactory. He could pass a Sauber; he was in a Ferrari. Korea had been a joke, but that was settled now. He relaxed slightly. And it was clear now that the Championship would end in India. He had known it and it was hard to find motivation any more. He wasn’t in the right headspace and he had known that at the beginning of the race. 

“Is everything alright with the car?” Andrea said over the radio about halfway through the race. It confused him initially. 

“Everything is fine, why? What data have you got?”

“No data, you’re slipping away from Hulkenburg, the gap is just over two seconds and Kimi is closing in fast,”

It had been some motivation to get his foot down and he had managed to pull his Ferrari into forth. So really there was nothing to complain about today. He knew they weren’t trying to improve this year’s car and focus was solely on 2014. The pace of the car was good, just never good enough to challenge for the podium. 

He walked into the hotel, just wanting to fall onto his bed and not think about anything for a while. He would make sure he got his room this time. A faint blush spread on his cheeks as he remembered the faithful night in Korea. He was a bit annoyed that Dasha had been called elsewhere and that he had to come back here alone. He was welcoming of her soft touch and her supportive words and ached for them. She seemed too far away already and he knew she would be here shortly. Mark had swiftly disappeared after the race as well and the feeling of abandonment was threatening to strangle him. He moved towards the stairs. 

The barricade stopped him in his tracks. Confusion spread across his face as he took in the warning hanging loosely between two cones:

Stairs restricted due to refurbishment. Please use the lift. Sorry for any inconvenience.

His breath was stuck in his throat. He was being forced into what he could describe as the worst situation of his life. His eyes flickered towards the grey doors, but panic crashed down on him and he found himself staggering backwards. There had to be another way. He stumbled over to the relieving free receptionist feeling his eyes wide with fear. He didn’t want to face this, not now. He wanted to relax not stress. 

“Good afternoon, Sir, how can I help you?” The woman behind the desk said cheerily, oblivious to the state he was slowly working himself into. 

“The stairs?” He was fighting away the panic in his voice, forcing himself to remain clam. There had to be another set of stairs.

“There is refurbishment happening on them at the moment, Sir, but the lifts are still in action so you are still able to get to your room,” She smiled but it only made him feel worse. 

“Is there any others?” 

“No, I’m sorry, but the lifts are still available for your use,” 

“There is no other way up?” The panic was now clear in his voice and the receptionist picked up on it. Confusion fell onto her face. 

“No, I’m sorry. Is everything alright, Sir?”

“Yes… No, I’m just… Why- How long… Why can’t the stairs?” She somehow seemed to pick up on what he was trying to ask. 

“There was a formal complaint made that was unsatisfactory to the manager. He believed immediate action was necessary and as the lifts were still available to be used no inconvenience would come to the guests. Are you sure you are OK, Sir?” Fernando had gripped onto the front of the desk for support and was trying to breath. It was daunting, a horribly daunting task that he must endure. And there was no other way around it. He composed himself as well as he could. 

“Yes,” he breathed out. “Thank you for your help,” He smiled weakly and turned away from the woman. He stood, simply staring at the doors, willing himself to have the courage to walk over and press the button. He was growing angry with himself. He could get in his car and drive it around in circles at ridiculous speeds without a bat of an eyelid. But walking up to a wall and pushing a button had him rendered motionless. He felt stupid. He felt pathetic. And out of sheer determination, he was going to make himself do it. 

He took a deep breath.

\- - - - -

“You’re what!” Mark was fuming. How could he have taking things so wrong? He had never implied this; this was never his idea. Yet Sebastian was pinning it on him. 

“Look, we’ve even got access to the security footage inside the elevator, so if he freaks out we can put it online,” there was true joy in his face and it made Mark’s blood boil more. 

“So you’re going to trap him in the lift until what?” Mark spat, his anger only spurring on the German’s joy. 

“We’ll have to wait and see how he holds up,” He looked over and the tense figure of his teammate and feigned concern. “Mark, this was you’re idea. You were the one who told me to leave off Dasha and him. So I am, but he still must learn. But I’ll give you a choice. I don’t have to do this,” he indicated to the set-up he was now standing in front of. “If you want, I’ll abandon the plan and he will just take the elevator up to his floor with no problems, but if I don’t do this, I have to do something else,” he moved closer to Mark to make sure his next words were not over heard. “This is about what you want, not anyone else.” 

Mark finally understood his involvement. He was here to make the decision. He could either leave Fernando in the lift and save his relationship with Dasha, or spare him the embarrassment now and have the opportunity of getting Fernando to himself. It was a decision between making Fernando happy or making himself. He found both answers struggling to his lips. In the short term, the latter was appealing, but he knew he could never forgive himself for helping Sebastian break them up. He knew if he decided to pull the plug now he would be able to have no other input in Sebastian’s plans. Sebastian was watching him; waiting to know what plan was going ahead. He loved this power he had over Mark and he loved the way he was making him question his morals. 

“He’s heading to the lift,” The Red Bull mechanic said, fiddling with the controls. Mark saw on the screen Fernando move to the button on the wall and push it. A brief moment passed and the doors slid open. The Red Bull mechanic was waiting for Sebastian’s orders and Sebastian was waiting for Mark. It was now or never. 

“Mark?” Sebastian hinted, prying for an answer. Something clicked in Mark’s head and before he realised, he was running. Full speed, he dove around the side of the building and emerged onto the street, startling the passers by. But he didn’t stop. He had to reach that elevator before the doors closed. He had answered Sebastian without uttering a word. 

As he burst into the reception he pushed through the gathering crowd to see Fernando standing alone in the back of the elevator. His eyes were closed and Mark knew he was trying to think of anything but the crushing fear he was about to experience. Mark ran again, breaking through a couple on his way. The man tried to pull him back and question what he thought he was doing, but Mark saw the door begin to move on the elevator and he pushed away. He caught his arm against the door as a safety precaution to make sure it didn’t close on him. His touch forced it open and he stepped into the small space. Fernando opened his eyes at the shift in weight and saw a flushed Mark in front of him.

“Mark?” He asked curiously. The door was still open, but he momentarily forgot where he was. Mark grabbed his wrist. 

“Move,” He exasperated. Fernando was confused but it was too late. Just as Mark turned to pull them both out, the doors began to shut. Releasing Fernando he tried to prevent the doors from closing again, but it was too late, Sebastian had control. Mark slammed his fists against the now closed doors as the elevator gave its first shudder of movement. He turned back to see Fernando, pressing himself against the corner of the box. He had turned scarily pale and his eyes had glazed over, unfocused. Mark took a tentative step towards Fernando, intending on just holding him, but that was when it happened. 

There was a clunk and the lights went off. 

Mother Fucker Mark cursed at Sebastian in his head. He stood still, waiting for something else. He heard the slide of fabric on the metal wall and knew Fernando had sunk to the floor. Anger was replaced by sympathy as Mark’s priorities fell to the man in the lift rather than the prick controlling it. He crouched on the floor and stretched his hand out in Fernando’s direction, cautious not to startle him. 

“Fernando,” He called soothingly. Fernando had totally forgotten he was not alone and he instinctively leaned forwards towards the voice. He tried calling back, but he couldn’t. It was all too real. He really was stuck in the lift and the walls felt as if they were drawing in on him. He wanted to feel Mark near him, just to know he was here and not just imaginary but he couldn’t speak. A small sob emitted from his throat as he tried to speak and instantly felt stupid, burying his head into his lap and pulling himself into the foetal position.

Mark automatically moved towards the soft sounds Fernando was making and found him curled in the corner. His hand lightly touched his back and he felt him gasp for air. He draped his arm around him and tried to pull him closer to him. As Mark moved closer, Fernando uncurled and buried himself deep into Mark’s embrace. Mark soothingly rubbed circles into his back.

“Shh…” He cooed to Fernando, focusing on calming him down. He deliberately didn’t think about Seb, knowing it would just make his blood boil. It didn’t take much for him to stay attentive to the wreak of a man in his arms, sobbing into his chest. He could hear Fernando trying to calm his breathing, not think about the situation he was in. The intimacy of the moment was slowly settling into Mark’s mind and he pulled Fernando closer to him. His sobbing stopped and focused on his breathing. Mark continued to rub circles into Fernando’s back, breathing him in. He smelt of the racetrack mixed with his own Spanish scent and it was wonderful. He wanted to remain lie this forever. 

Fernando wanted to pull away to make Mark clear he wasn’t a wimp, but the security he provided was too much and he found himself gripping tighter. The darkness removed the visual hauntings of the close walls and he could feel himself relaxing more. He straightened slightly and turned his head so it wasn’t buried into Mark, but still leaning on him.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, surprised at how strong his voice was. Mark pulled him closer and rubbed his arm.

“It’s alright, everyone is scared of something,” That was the wrong thing to say. Fernando frowned unknowingly to Mark and started to sit up. 

“Not scared,” Fernando’s anger was clear in his voice. How could he be scared of something so simple? No. He wouldn’t let Mark believe it. He pushed himself away from Mark, thanking the darkness that surrounded him to not give him away as he hugged his legs tighter, already missing the warmth of Mark’s arms. Mark was confused.

“I wasn’t trying to imply anything,” Mark said in the general direction of Fernando. 

“I’m not weak,” 

“I wasn’t saying-” His sentence was cut off as they heard another creak. The tension emitting from Fernando hit Mark as the Spaniard took an intake of breath. His hands reached over to Fernando and found his hand. He grasped it tightly. Fernando made to pull away, but the second louder creak made him throw his arms around Mark’s waist and push himself back into him. 

“I don’t want this to be it,” Fernando muttered and sympathy crashed over Mark. This was too far. Sebastian had taken it too far. This wasn’t just demoralising; this was character crushing. He was exploiting Fernando’s worst fear and probably planning on presenting it to the world. His hatred throbbed through him as he held Fernando closely. 

“It won’t, it’s just stopped, we’ll be out soon,” Mark gave him a squeeze before he began to push himself off the ground. Fernando panicked, gripping tighter. 

“Where are you going?” 

“It’s OK, I’ve just got to go and press the alert bell to let the hotel know it has stopped,” Mark cooed and Fernando reluctantly released him. Mark moved swiftly over to the button pad and ran his hands down it, feeling the brail and praying he pushed the right button. He did. A bell sounded around them. 

“Mark?” Fernando called, panicking again. Mark moved back over to Fernando and scooped him close.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, just the bell to let them know we’re in here. Won’t be long,” Mark returned to rubbing his arm but ended up gently rocking him. His hands fell onto Fernando’s face and he gentle rubbed his cheek in time with his rocking. Fernando pressed into his touch and let himself fall into the comfort. Mark rested his chin on the top of Fernando’s head and, also falling into the moment, pressed his lips to his forehead. 

There was a moment of stillness between the two men. Mark felt Fernando tilt his head up to look at him and the hand that was on his cheek slid round to cup his face. Not being able to see each other was working well as both men were blushing rapidly. Mark, for accidently kissing Fernando, and the other for the intimacy of the moment. Mark let his forehead fall gently onto Fernando’s and waited, letting the other man decide if anything else happened. Fernando looked into Mark’s eyes, feeling his warm breath on his face. The Australian’s scent was overwhelming him. He closed his eyes.

There was a small ping noise and the small area was flooded with light. Fernando leant backwards out of Mark’s hold and rested his back on the wall. Mark released the Spaniard with sadness filing him; engulfing any other emotions he may have been experiencing. He pushed himself off the floor and walked over to the button pad. Hopefully the lights meant that Sebastian had relinquished control. He kept his back on Fernando, not wanting to discuss what just nearly happened as he pressed the bell again. 

Fernando was torn. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted Mark to hold him again. He remained on the floor, not wanting to fall back into reality and realise where he was. But it was already happening. Mark had moved away and Fernando felt like he had lost that moment of comfort. Sadness panged in his stomach as he pulled his knees close and pressed his palms into his temples. Mark kept his back turned and his finger on the bell, the sound was starting to drill into Fernando’s head, making his loose sense of what was happening. 

“Mark,” he muttered. But the Australian kept his back to him, assuming he wanted to talk about what nearly happened. He couldn’t face it. The bell continued to pound around Fernando’s head and he couldn’t drain it out. 

“Mark, please,” the softness of Fernando’s voice nearly crumpled Mark, he wanted to hold him again and stay with him forever. But he couldn’t, he had to pretend it hadn’t nearly happened. He had to forget it. He focused on the button.

“MARK!” The sudden yell started him and his hand slipped off the button. He turned to see Fernando’s hands clamped to his ears and he was rocking slightly with his eyes scrunched shut. The horrific image pushed panic into Mark and he started to move towards Fernando. As he took his first step, the conventional ding of the lift let him know they were moving and had reached a floor. The doors slid open and Mark’s hatred for Sebastian shot through the roof. 

Behind the doors waited a swarm of journalists, poised with their cameras aimed to capture Fernando in his vulnerable state.


	5. Journalists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why would anyone ever tell anything personal to a journalist?"  
> ~Liam Neeson~

Mark thrust his hand rapidly on the close door button as the cameras flashed and everyone fought to get a good image. Some tried to push into the lift and get a statement from them, but they all back off as the door began to close. Anger was pulsing through Mark. When he got his hands on Seb… His hands balled into fists at the thought of the German’s smug expression. Black spots appeared in his eyes from where he had directly looked at a flash and he rubbed them trying to calm himself down and get rid of them. 

Fernando remained on the floor. He had looked up in horror to see all of the cameras pointed at him. How had they known? He was still staring at the doors as he and Mark moved upwards in the lift. Sebastian. There was no other explanation. He was trying to prove something to Fernando but he couldn’t work out what. Or why. And how had he known about his fear of lifts. He hadn’t told anyone. Only Dasha and Ma-

He looked over at Mark, who was fuming. Somehow finding some strength, he pushed himself off the floor, pressing his hand into the smooth metal for support. Mark turned to look at him, but Fernando’s expression kept him standing still. The Spaniard looked stuck between looking like he was about to be sick and being extremely angry. Confusion fell on Mark’s face, but he remained on the spot. 

“Fernan-?”

“Let me out,” Fernando muttered, looking at the floor. Mark was shocked. 

“I can’t, we’re-”

“I said let me out,” Fernando still wasn’t looking at Mark. Mark looked up and saw they were on floor three. Was this the slowest moving elevator in the world?

“We haven’t got long until we’re there, just calm down,” Mark had seen the illuminated thirteen when he had started pressing the emergency bell. He placed a comforting hand on Fernando’s shoulder. Fernando snapped. 

“LET ME OUT! I CAN’T! MOVE! I NEED TO LEAVE! MARK, LET GO OF ME!” His yells were painful to hear and he pushed Mark off him. He headed towards the door, but Mark caught his collar and pushed him against the wall. He began yelling disgusting things at Mark in Spanish with tears prickling in his eyes. He wanted to escape, but he couldn’t. He was trapped. 

Mark kept his grip on Fernando and was trying to yell calming words over the curses pouring from Fernando’s lips. It was as if the cameras had sparked a fire within him and he was lashing out. Fernando clawed at Mark’s hands, but they stayed tight. He tried to wriggle from his grip, but the Australian was too calm and had complete control of the situation. Had he and Sebastian set this up? No, Mark wouldn’t do that… Would he? He couldn’t be sure anymore. He just wanted to leave. 

“Argh!” Mark yelled in pain as Fernando’s fist made contact with his face. Pain throbbed harshly under his skin as he released his grip, hands flying to his face. Fernando pushed past him and headed straight for the door. He pulled uselessly on the tight seam but it wouldn’t budge. He moved to the button pad, but Mark hooked his arms underneath Fernando’s and dragged him backwards. Fernando began to lash out again, but it was no use; Mark had positioned himself so he was out of reach from his flying limbs. 

“Calm down!” Mark yelled, trying hard to stop Fernando from thrashing around. He had never seen him like this. Sadness and anger fought inside Mark as his face throbbed painfully. Fernando was still yelling, but as they reached the seventh floor, he began to stop. His energy was low and the adrenaline that was pumping through him was seeping away. His yells turned to sobs as he fell into Mark’s arms. Mark wrapped his arms around Fernando’s waist and pulled him close whilst Fernando covered his face with his hands. “It’s alright, just take it easy,” 

The lift grinded to a halt and the conventional ding sounded again. They were only on the seventh floor, but as the doors opened Fernando pushed out of Mark’s grip and bolted into the corridor – away from the lift. Mark blinked before he realised he had gone, bolting after him. Fernando dived to the side to avoid running into the couple entering the lift, but he kept moving forwards, wanting to get as far away from the lift and Mark as possible. The Australian’s longer strides caught him in no time and he grabbed Fernando’s wrist, preventing him from moving forwards. 

“Mate, what-?”

“I’m not your mate,” Fernando snapped as he wrenched his wrist from Mark’s grip. Mark looked confused. “What else have you told him?”

“What?”

“Don’t play stupid with me, Mark, I know you told Sebastian about the lift,” He spat, anger pushing though him. Mark considered feigning ignorance but he knew it was pointless. 

“Fernando, I didn’t mean to, it just-”

“-Slipped out?” He could see the rage in Fernando’s eyes and it made him feel ten times as guilty. 

“Fernando, please-”

“-I trusted you, Mark! No one knew that about me, not even my team! And you have managed to let the whole world know! How can I trust you don’t tell him everything I say?” Mark couldn’t answer. He didn’t, but he could see that the major trust bond between them had been severed. Fernando was waiting expectantly. Mark sighed and rubbed his face.

“I’m sorry, I have never told him anything you have said to me before and I wont do it again! It was a mistake!”

“How can I know?”

“Because I’m telling you!” Mark cupped Fernando’s face and stared into his eyes intensely. Hazel met brown and Mark was pleading Fernando to believe him. The moment was so different to the one similar in the lift. The lift had been comfort – this was desperation. Fernando pushed Mark’s hands away and looked at the floor. He didn’t want to loose him, but he couldn’t trust him. How could he have revealed what he had believed was his darkest secret. The one thing he didn’t want the world to know. It made him look weak, vulnerable. How were other drivers going to see him now? A man afraid of a metal box… 

Still not looking back at Mark, he began to walk away. He spotted the stairs and saw there was no blockage from this point. Sebastian had probably made the complaint, knowing Fernando would be forced to use the lift. How had he been so lucky again that coincidence had played into his hands? There was no way Sebastian could have known the lift would stop. 

“I came to get you out of the lift!” Mark called to the retreating figure of Fernando. When he didn’t stop, he caught him up, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him moving. Fernando had pushed his hands into his pockets and shrugged Mark’s hand away; he didn’t want it. “I was trying to prevent this!” 

“You didn’t do a very good job,” Fernando murmured as he began to climb the stairs. Mark stayed with him.

“It could have been a lot worse,” Mark muttered and Fernando stopped walking.

“What do you mean?” Mark was on the verge of telling him about Sebastian’s ultimatum, but he stopped himself. He knew it could have major repercussions and it wasn’t worth the risk. He diverted. 

“How would you have held up on your own?” Mark tried to sound sympathetic, but his face throbbed and there was a hint of anger in his voice that Fernando noticed. 

“Fuck off, Mark, you’re not that precious,” Fernando seethed. 

“So you would have been just fine on your own? Because you didn’t look it to me,” Mark snapped. How dare he accuse him of thinking he was precious? Guilt or no guilt, he was crossing a line. 

“Just because you finished second in a race doesn’t mean you’re a saviour! I don’t need anyone holding my hand a coaxing me in life, I’m fine on my own!” Mark couldn’t hold back the anger bubbling inside of him.

“At least I have a car that is competitive enough to get on the podium! What good were you today?” 

“If you’re done being a hero here, Mark, I’m sure there is someone else who needs your unsuccessful powers to save the day.” They had reached the thirteenth floor. Both men stood at the top of the stairs glaring at each other. Their hatred for someone else was being aimed at each other, but neither of them felt apologetic. Fernando stormed off down the hall heading for his room. He turned back when he reached his door. 

“Enjoy your celebration fuck tonight! At least I won’t be at it alone!” he spat down the hall as he disappeared into his room, slamming it behind him. Mark felt his guilt at what he had said to Fernando rush to the surface with the slam of the door. He knew he had deserved the comments from Fernando – he had broken an important bond of trust. Impulse made him walk over to the door, fully intending to apologise for what he had said. He heard more slamming coming from inside the room and when he heard the glass being put aggressively on the table and the pouring of liquid, he knew Fernando wouldn’t want him apology. He turned away and pressed the button on the wall calling for the lift, not looking back at the room he so desperately wanted to enter. 

As he stepped into the small area, he couldn’t believe that mere minutes ago he had nearly kissed Fernando…

\- - - - - - - - - -

ALONSO DRIVEN MAD BY LIFTS

Fernando Alonso was recently spotted cowering in fear in the corner of a lift. The driver was spotted after he returned to his hotel after the Japanese Grand Prix and was forced to use the lift due to refurbishments on the stairs. Other guests at the hotel were shocked to see the driver so reluctant to enter the lift and were surprised that a man who drives cars fast and endangers his life on a daily basis could have a fear of something so petty.

Claire Wrung, the receptionist of the hotel who was on duty, said that the Ferrari driver had come over asking in a panicked tone about the stairs. “He had asked if there was another way up, but there was only the lifts available, so I had to tell him no.” Claire said, when asked about the driver’s reaction. “He seemed really scared and if I had have known, I would have showed him the fire escape.” 

This raises the question of stability in Alonso. If he is stumped by the thought of going into a lift, then how can the other drivers on the grid be sure he will not suddenly panic about driving quickly on track and create a dangerous situation? Should Alonso’s condition be classed as a disability? And if so, should he still be allowed to drive in Formula One? One thing is for sure, his team were also not aware of his condition.

“No, we did not know anything about Fernando’s fear of lifts, but it does not have any effect on his driving and so it does not matter to us,” Ferrari’s team principle Stefano Domenicali told the press this morning before leaving without another comment. With the knowledge that Fernando Alonso hid this from his team, it leads one to wonder: is there anything else he is hiding?

Mark Webber, driver for Infiniti Red Bull Racing, was also in the lift with Alonso and helped the Ferrari man make a quick get away by closing the doors of the lift and pushing journalists away. Their friendship on the grid has been clear for ages and it leads to questions of “did Webber know of his condition?” It is known that Alonso and Webber were not staying in the same hotel, so why else would Webber come to this hotel if not to just help Alonso get through the lift journey. Other guests at the hotel have reported that Webber “Frantically barged his way though them to get to him [Alonso] before the lift door closed”.

The Red Bull driver was seen emerging from the lift along five minutes after the pair had initially disappeared looking as if caught between two emotions. Webber refused to comment as he left the hotel and Alonso has not been seen to appear since. Alonso’s girlfriend, Dasha Kapustina, was seen entering the hotel half an hour after her boyfriend, but also refused to comment.

\- - - - - - - - - -

It could have been worse. That was all he kept telling himself. The journalists had twisted the story in so many ways, trying to make a unique article, but they all sounded the same to him. He was relieved that there were only so many ways to present “Formula One driver scared of lifts”. Some were mocking, others were sympathetic, but the worst one he had read was the one focusing on the fact Mark and him were alone in a lift and no one knew why. It had become clear to the press, thanks to the guests of the hotel that were desperate for their fifteen minutes of fame, that he had gone into the lift alone, Mark had pushed through people desperately to get to him, the lift doors had shut and then five minutes later the doors opened again and they were both still there. But the scepticism about Mark and him had persevered and wouldn’t stop after that dreaded article…

Fernando was currently sitting in his hotel room, waiting for Dasha to return. He was alone and skimming through his mentions on Twitter. He had had a range of comments that he told himself he shouldn’t have been looking at. But he was anyway; curiosity got the better of him. He kind of wished he hadn’t.

Jenny_Cal42: @alo_oficial is scared of lifts? What is this? I didn’t realise it was a crime! #DownWithAllLifts #ForzaFernando

Formula2_23: @alo_oficial I thought this guy was supposed to be tough, not a wimp #WhatAJoke

SkidQueen56: @Formula2_23 @alo_oficial Everyone is intituled to be scared of something, jack ass. Don’t worry Alonso – we still love you! #ForzaFernando 

Samurai_Red3: @alo_oficial How dare those lifts! O.o We will get them! #DownWithAllLifts

SkidQueen56: @alo_oficial Let’s get this treading for our hero! #Love #DownWithAllLifts

DannyQuell: @alo_oficial How are we supposed to take this guy seriously anymore?

AliciaM4y: @alo_oficial He’s just a scared little kid, not long until he looses it on track – unstable and a danger to the sport!

ForzaF3rrari14: @alo_oficial Let’s cut the guy some slack, I’m sure everyone has something they are ashamed of about themselves #ForzaFernando #Support #StillLoveYou #Tifosi

Megan_Phil889: @alo_oficial Can’t believe this guy replaced his mum with @AussieGrit when will you grow up? You’re a racing driver not some pathetic man-child! #Unbelievable

thatguypaul: @alo_oficial What happened inside that lift? An argument or was Alonso really scared? #Phobiagate #CoverUp

FerrariDiva94: @thatguypaul @alo_oficial Good point – Maybe it was a lover’s spat? #Phobiagate

Kimis_Bitch: @FerrariDiva94 @thatguypaul @alo_oficial No, he’s with Dasha. Maybe there was an argument about the race? #Phobiagate

FerrariDiva94: @thatguypaul @Kimis_Bitch @alo_oficial Maybe the Dasha relationship is a cover up? #Phobiagate #controversy 

Kimis_Bitch: @thatguypaul @FerrariDiva94 @alo_oficial Think you’ve been reading too many fan fics ;) We all know that he and @AussieGrit are close friends #Phobiagate

thatguypaul: @FerrariDiva94 @Kimis_Bitch @alo_oficial @AussieGrit what is your point?

Kimis_Bitch: @FerrariDiva94 @thatguypaul @alo_oficial @AussieGrit maybe they agreed before the race that Webber would hold back Seb and he didn’t so they argued? #Phobiagate

FerrariDiva94: @thatguypaul @Kimis_Bitch @alo_oficial @AussieGrit still think it’s the lover thing… #Phobiagate #Controversy

thatguypaul: @Kimis_Bitch @alo_oficial @AussieGrit that makes a lot of sense, though if you look at the photo, Alonso is the one looking desolate… #Phobiagate

Kimis_Bitch: @thatguypaul @alo_oficial @AussieGrit Yeah? Webber probably shut him down, Red Bull obviously comes before their friendship #Phobiagate

thatguypaul: @Kimis_Bitch @alo_oficial @AussieGrit What friendship? Did you see how riled Webber looked when he reappeared alone? Shit went down and I don’t recon we’ll be seeing much of their ‘pally-ness’ in India #Phobiagate

Fernando had stopped reading there, and he was glad he had. Within the next hour the hashtag ‘Phobiagate’ was on the top ten treading list. He had dropped his phone next to him, exasperating. He didn’t know what hurt more: how some of his fans had just turned their backs on him and were happily insulting him in front of his face or the betrail he felt from Mark. He rubbed his hands over his face and into his hair. He had confided so much in Mark and now he was afraid that Sebastian knew it all too. And if Sebastian knew it as well, he knew everything about Fernando’s life. With both Dasha and Mark informing him, he felt as if Sebastian’s face was surrounding him, filling in the empty spaces of his room and staring at him, that taunting smirk on his face. 

His phone buzzed for the eighth time this evening. With a quick glance down he saw the fourth message flash from Mark. He didn’t want to read it; he didn’t want to know what he wanted to say. The first message had been from Andrea, making sure he was OK, then Two had flashed through from Mark. The fourth was his PR agent, telling him that he had been asked to interview but she was suggesting a statement from him rather than individual interviews, which he had agreed to. Dasha then sent him a text, telling him not to read any articles or go on Twitter and to ignore it all, making him curious and so he did the exact opposite to what she told him. After that, Mark was making himself known by constantly texting. Fernando was tempted to shut off his phone, but he didn’t because that casual buzzing kept bringing him back from his depressing thoughts. 

Maybe the people on twitter had got something right: he didn’t know where this left Mark and his friendship. His stomach jolted with sadness as he thought about not being Mark’s friend, but he brought himself to his senses. He couldn’t trust Mark anymore, he couldn’t confide in him. There was no other way Sebastian would have known about the lift thing unless he was told, and Fernando had only told Dasha and Mark. He was too sure that Dasha wouldn’t tell Sebastian so it just left Mark. It stung that the man he trusted most in the world had stabbed him in the back. Fernando wrapped his arms around himself wishing silently that they were Mark’s…

“What?” Fernando growled at himself, sitting forwards and pressing his palms over his eyes. He just had that stupid article stuck in his head. He didn’t want Mark in his life anymore. His face was too easy to be open with and he had to shut him out. The public was right; there would be no pal-behaviour in India. Fernando had two weeks to push him as far away as possible. And it was what he would have to do. There was no trust and he could not risk Sebastian finding out more: the conversation about the photograph Sebastian had flooded into his mind. He couldn’t risk it. 

Pushing himself off the chair, he headed into the bathroom for a shower. The article about Mark and him still lingering in the back of his mind…

\- - - - -

Dasha entered the hotel room quietly. She noticed instantly that all of the lights were out, the nearly set sun giving the room a dim, red glow. She moved inside and put her bag down on the table. The glass Fernando had been drinking from when she first came in was still on the table. The shower door was open ajar and she could smell Fernando’s shower gel lightly on the air. Still searching the little room for the man himself, her eyes fell on the bed and she saw his back bearing his samurai tattoo. A need to be close to him washed over her as she removed her jacket. 

Quickly, she pulled off her clothes and changed into the red silk shorts and cotton yellow vest top she had brought as pyjamas. As she folded her clothes into a neat pile on the side of the sofa, the flash of light to her left caught her attention and she turned to see Fernando’s phone discarded on the other end of the long chair. Curiously, she moved over to it and took in the display. Mark’s name was showing with the number six in a bracket. Fernando had six unread messages from Mark? That was unusual. Fernando never didn’t reply to Mark, even if the two of them were curled up together on the sofa at home watching a movie Fernando would still reply to Mark. She picked up the phone cautiously and unlocked it, curiosity getting the better of her. The messages appeared in the dim light of the screen and Dasha scrolled to the top. There were eight messages from today in total, so Dasha assumed he had read the first two. 

Fernando, we need to talk. I want to apologise.

A moment of confusion covered her face before she continued to read.

Ignoring me won’t solve this.

So something had happened in the lift. Dasha took a cautious glance at the sleeping form of her boyfriend behind her before she took a breath and read on to the messages he had not seen.

I didn’t mean to tell him, I feel horrid. I have never shared anything else you have told me with him or anyone else. He just made a comment about noticing you don’t take lifts and it just fell out.

Mark had told whom? Small dazzle of anger threatened to burn through Dasha as she realised the betrayal of trust and why Fernando had not read the messages.

I’m still going to apologise even if you don’t answer me.

A little while had passed before the next message.

Fernando this is ridiculous. Ignore the articles and ignore Twitter. This is just you and I and we need to sort this. 

The texts were getting shorter and Dasha could sense Mark’s frustration.

So you’re just going to leave it at this?

Another long gap. The time was showing above the text and Dasha could tell Mark had given Fernando as long as possible to answer.

Fuck sake!

And now Dasha had reached the message that had most recently been received. 

Fernando, I feel so shit about today. I know I betrayed you’re trust entirely and so I suppose I deserve this. I just need you to understand that it will never happen again and I can honestly promise you that. You mean too much to me for me to be able to let you go over this so I need to know we are going to be OK. You can’t let him win, Fernando. It’s what he was aiming for. We have to show him we are stronger than this! I understand that you made need some time and I am fully prepared to give you that space. I will never betray you again. You have my word. I’ll be waiting, please talk soon. 

It was so perfect that Dasha forgot all about what had happened today. She felt so full of love that she almost made to wake Fernando and force him to reply and patch this up. Mark and Fernando had been so close ever since she had met Fernando. She couldn’t see them broken apart by something that now seemed so insignificantly small. She felt totally on Mark’s side and a small determination blossomed inside of her: she was going to make sure this was fixed. 

She locked Fernando’s phone and walked towards the bed. Placing it lightly on the bedside table, she decided it was best she turned it off in case anyone else text and it disturbed Fernando from its new position. He wasn’t a very heavy sleeper and she felt that due to all that had happened today he deserved some peaceful hours of sleep. He was lying on the edge of the other side of the bed to where she was standing. His left arm was exposed over the covers and his right was resting underneath the pillow below his head. The image on his back seemed to glow pleasantly in the rapid fading light and Dasha pulled back the duvet on her side and climbed in next to him. 

Carefully, she slid up close to him, being cautious not to wake him. For a while she just looked down on his tranquil, sleeping face and felt at peace. He was so beautiful anyway, but sleep gave him a quality of being calved by a perfectionist sculpture that wouldn’t stop until his creation was complete. Gazing down at the man she loved, she felt so lucky to be here, chosen by him. She knew of many who wanted her place, but here she was. She gently drew the line of shadow that had fallen on his face with her finger. He turned his face into her touch. She lay down beside him and placed small kisses into his neck, her fingers now guided around the outline of the image on his back. 

He woke, happily and turned to face Dasha. They lay for a few moments, just with their foreheads touching and eyes closed, breathing each other in. Fernando pressed his lips gently against hers. This was all he wanted tonight. Nothing else was necessary. He just wanted to have Dasha here, in his arms and know that something was right in the world. He slid an arm around her and pulled her close to him. She curled into his chest listening to the soothing beat of his heart. She saw his red cotton shorts wrapped around his legs and smiled into him, knowing everything was right in this moment. 

“Te amo,” Dasha sighed contently, looking back up into Fernando’s face. He smiled down at her.

“Te amo,” he returned, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. She pulled herself up him so her face was next to his.

“You’ll always be my hero,” She whispered before catching his lips with hers. And that was all he needed.

To know he would always be Dasha’s hero, no matter what.

\- - - - - - - - - - 

MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE?

Mere hours after the Japanese race was concluded on the Suzuka circuit, Ferrari’s Fernando Alonso and Red Bull’s Mark Webber were seen in a lift together. As seen depicted above, Alonso was looking freaked out whilst Webber defended his friend by closing the elevator door and pushing away the prying press. But why was such an act necessary of Webber? Most have concluded that it was due to Alonso’s supposed fear of lifts and that Webber was just trying to protect his Spanish friend, but I have seen the flaw in this plan. It is known that Mark Webber was not staying in the same hotel as Fernando Alonso this weekend, so why was the Australian there in the first place?

The reports have shown that Webber was seen fighting his way through the reception of the hotel to reach the Spaniard before the lift closed without him, but after five minutes the couple were seen to have apparently not moved from the first floor at all. After waiting for the crowd to die down, I found myself with the opportunity to talk to the hotel’s manager, who was looking very flustered. He had said that after the two men had got into the lift, it had broken down and they were stuck without being able to move between the ground floor and first. This would explain why the pair was still around when the doors opened, but it also attracts a new question: did the lift break down or was it stopped?

Webber and Alonso have been very close friends for a long time and that is known to most who have heard the term ‘Formula One’. But how far does their friendship go? Is it simply that or is there more? Webber’s defensive and protective manner of Alonso could be seen as a compassionate act of love. Although seeing the expression on Alonso’s face and then of Webber’s when he reappeared later on in the evening, it was clear if they were taking the time to get a secret moment of passion in, it had not ended well.

Neither of the two drivers have made comments yet, but we eagerly await their twitter accounts in a hope one of them will soon. It appears that both men want this to go away as quickly as possible, but unfortunately for them, it has opened the world up to be addressing the ‘Phobiagate’ principle. A lot of different opinions have already been posted on twitter, but we will have to wait and see what the two drivers have to say about the incident.

More update to come as we get them.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Mark was tapping his phone nervously on his knee. It had been a good ten hours since his last message to Fernando and every ounce of him wanted to furiously text him again. But he restrained himself; he had to give him space. The airport really wasn’t the place he wanted to be sitting right now, but he was due to board any moment and the thoughts of home were overwhelming him. He wanted things back to how they were before the lift, but he knew nothing would ever be then same. Not now…

Not since that almost kiss. 

The airport wasn’t very busy in the late stage of the morning. He was contradicting himself by simultaneously hoping that Fernando didn’t show up and that he did. He wanted to see him, but he knew he needed space. Frustration at the conflicting feelings bubbled under his skin and he looked at his watch willing him to be called to board soon. 

“I knew you would be here,” Sebastian sat in the empty seat beside him and Mark made to get up. Sebastian caught his wrist.

“I don’t want to speak to you,” Mark snapped, trying so hard to ignore the smug look on Sebastian’s face.

“I gave you a choice,”

“Thanks for that, by the way. Highlight of the day,” his voice dripped with sarcasm as he made to move again. Sebastian tightened his grip. 

“You may want to see this before you go,” Sebastian flashed his phone at him and curiosity pulled Mark back into his seat. “I thought you may be interested,” Seb muttered as Mark looked down at the dark screen. Sebastian pressed his finger on the screen and the video started. The low mutter of the small crowd in the airport drowned out the quiet volume of the video, but it didn’t matter, Mark recognised the scenario too well. Fernando was standing alone in the lift, and Mark had just burst into the frame. Mark turned his eyes to Sebastian.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snarled, but Sebastian wasn’t looking at him, too interested in the video. Mark couldn’t help but feel a little relieved; the worst part couldn’t have been caught because it had been pitch black. 

“Oh! My favourite part,” Sebastian giggled, bringing Mark’s attention back to the phone in front of him. He saw himself slam his fists into the closed doors before the whole thing changed. The screen went momentarily black before the figures of him and Fernando were picked up in a greenish tinted shot. The camera had night vision. And he saw himself crouch down, reaching towards Fernando as if he were doing it under a spotlight.

Sebastian had the whole encounter. 

Panic shot through Mark as he turned back to face his teammate, disbelief covering his face. Sebastian was grinning back at him looking extremely happy with himself. Mark couldn’t believe how he had time to plan all of this at the same time as winning a World Championship. Mark was struck dumbfounded. 

“It got quite intimate in the dark, didn’t it?” Sebastian taunted in a low voice to make sure no one but Mark heard him. He shut off the video. “Just remember, things can get a lot worse for you’re little friend,” He snickered as he rose onto his feet, satisfied that Mark had received his message. Mark glared at the German, but he was already moving away.

“Say hi from me if he ever replies,” Sebastian called as he walked backwards, still facing Mark. He smiled as he turned away, making his way back to his departure lounge. Mark was still glaring at the spot he had just left when he knew what he had to do. After what had seemed like a lifetime of waiting, the tanoid announced that his flight could now board. But when he got up, he didn’t head for the gate. He was heading back towards the ticket office, needing to be on another flight…


	6. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If there is to be reconciliation, first there must be truth.”  
> ~Timothy B. Tyson~

Alone at home was miserable. It just gave him time to think and at the moment that was the last thing he wanted to do. Fernando didn’t need to be sitting stewing in his thoughts, he needed to be busy and occupied so he didn’t have a chance to think. Thinking was dangerous; it made him head to all sorts of corners of his brain that he had promised he had locked tight. His check-up with the doctor in Japan before he left showed everything was fine with him, but it had annoyed him the doctor had made a comment about his lift problem and suggested someone he could talk to. He didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. He just wanted it to fade away into the background. He had been living with it for twenty-seven years of his life; he was fine with it. It was just another part of his life. He was glad, however, that the press had gotten bored of the subject and now the articles about him focused on the fact he held the record for most points ever scored in Formula One and about comments he had made about the Championship.

He tried to relax into the sofa and focus on the sport he had on the television. He wasn’t watching it; the sound was turned down low. He just had it on so the silence didn’t press in on him, he couldn’t even remember what sport it was. His mind had taken him to Mark. He had finally read his messages after a lot of persistent whining from Dasha and was not glad he had. That last message was stuck in his head and he really didn’t want it to be. Please talk soon. It had been a few days since he had left Japan and he still didn’t feel like talking…

That was a total lie. He had unlocked and re-locked his phone at least fourteen times today only, deciding he was going to reply and then bailing at the last minute. He was horribly torn between wanting Mark back and hating what he had done. No. He had broken his trust. Why did he deserve forgiveness? You have my word. But what did that mean anymore? How could he trust his word? The more he thought about it, the more that defence faltered. He had told Mark other things that he knew would be much more beneficial to Sebastian if they really were cohering… And he had seemed very genuine and desperate in his apology… 

He leant forwards and scooped his phone off the table. His fingers slid gracefully over the touch screen as he opened his message from Mark, the words I’ll be waiting instantly jumping off the screen at him. He didn’t consider the words he wrote, they just came out as if they had been waiting to be released. He smiled gently as he moved his fingers to press the send button. 

But he couldn’t do it. 

His finger was frozen in mid air, just above the button, the smile faded off his face. He couldn’t shake the thought that there was something not right about the situation. Something about the trust that Mark broke made it hard to trust the genuineness of him now. What if it was all part of a bigger plan? He knew he was over analysing this, but he couldn’t help it. The words he had just typed leapt tantalisingly off the screen, willing to be sent.

Thank you for the space. I forgive you. I hope you can forgive me.

They seemed stupid now, as if he was making it all OK with a couple of words. And he couldn’t make himself close those few millimetres to send the message. He locked the phone without sending the message. Looking at the blank screen for a moment made him consider his actions. Was he being ridiculous? He knew he wanted Mark back in his life, but why? There was no real reason to it. If anyone else had broken his trust like that there would be no more, so what made Mark so different? He slid his phone back onto the table in front of him and fell back into the sofa, pushing his palms onto his face. Behind his hands he had closed his eyes, focusing on finding some kind of logical answer to his question. And he came up with one answer:

He was going out. 

He pushed himself off the chair, sick of being trapped in his own head. He headed for the cupboard by the front door and extracted his bike. He needed to blow off some steam and the best way he could think of, in his current state, was to push it to the maximum on his bike. He set it down against the wall and headed up the stairs to change. Moments later he was coming back down the stairs, now clad in a red and yellow lycra shirt and his black lycra shorts. He went back into the cupboard, collecting his helmet, before he moved into the lounge to retrieve his progress tracking accessories. He had just opened the drawer and reached for his heart rate monitor when he heard the knock on the door. He closed his eyes and groaned internally. It was ironic; the knocker couldn’t have come ten minutes earlier. With another sigh, he closed the drawer and headed over to the door. Shock was presented to him as he registered who was standing in front of him. 

Mark.

Fernando went to shut the door in his face, but Mark pressed his palm into the wood, not letting it close any further than ten centimetres. The bruise around Mark’s eye was clear now and small pang of guilt threatened to fill Fernando. Mark watched the Spaniard closely, but after a few seconds, Fernando sighed dropping his head and disappeared back into the house. Mark let himself in. As he passed over the threshold, he clocked the bike leaning up against the wall. He followed Fernando into the lounge and stood in the doorframe, watching the Spaniard’s back as he rooted through a drawer. At least there was a reason for the lycra. Mark tried not to stare at the perfectly structured figure of Fernando, being displayed so deliciously by the close hugging fabric and focused on the real reason he was here instead. Fernando was blatantly ignoring him, and he felt anger tetchily waiting to push its way to the surface. 

“Thanks for inviting me in,” Mark started sarcastically, folding his arms across his chest. Fernando continued to pull things out of the drawer and place them on the top surface, still with his back to Mark. Mark breathed deeply, pushing himself to remain calm. “I came to talk,” 

Fernando bit back the words he wanted to say. He couldn’t believe Mark had come all this way just to talk to him. He was annoyed and pleased at the same time. But he kept quiet; not wanting to invite Mark the chance to persuade him. He could sense Mark was getting frustrated and welcomed the harsh words he could see inevitably coming. He wanted a solid reason to hate Mark and explain why he couldn’t just forgive and forget. But even that thought sent contradiction into his head. 

“I’m not going to have this conversation on my own, you’re going to talk to me,” Mark sounded too sure of himself, which made Fernando want to prove him wrong. He picked up the things from the side and closed the drawer. Without looking up, he headed for the door. Mark blocked his path. “Fernando,”

“I’m going out,” Fernando said in a monotone. Mark was relieved that he had finally spoken; at least he knew he wasn’t talking to himself. He had known this conversation would not be easy, but after two days of sitting in a Spanish motel and thinking it over, he knew the way he wanted it to go. And he would make sure it did.

“You’re not. We need to talk,”

“You want to talk. I want to train.” Fernando kept his emotionless tone. He took a step towards the door but Mark casually placed his hand on the doorframe, barricading his exit. A hint of anger flashed in Fernando’s eyes, but Mark wasn’t fazed. 

“We need to talk, it’s more important than training,” He pushed himself closer to Fernando, feeling the anger radiating the Spaniard. 

“Get out of my way.”

“No.” The bluntness of his words caught Fernando off guard momentarily. 

“It’s my house, so move,” Fernando finally looked up into Mark’s eyes. Mark could see the anger in Fernando's eyes and challenged them with his own. 

“Make me.” Mark said, a voice full of confidence. What happened next was slightly unexpected. 

Fernando dropped the monitors in his hands and threw himself into Mark. Mark stumbled backwards slightly before he wrapped his arms around Fernando’s waist and forced him backwards in a rugby tackle. Fernando fell onto the floor but sprung back up as quickly as he fell, rearing for another attack. But this time Mark was ready. Fernando tried to slide under Mark’s outstretched arms, but the Australian caught him by the collar and forced him back into the lounge. Fernando swung his fists into Mark’s stomach, but he was dodged. Anger was boiling under his skin as Mark held him against the wall. He continued to try and physically beat Mark, but he was always one step behind, on the back foot. It was as if someone was telling Mark what he was about to do so he could prevent himself from getting into trouble. 

“Get the fuck off me, Mark!” He snarled, clawing at Mark’s hands. 

“Not until you agree to get this shit out in the air!”

“I’ve nothing to say, or I would having replied to your fucking pathetic text!” Mark was a little relieved that Fernando had actually bothered to read those messages. He glared into Fernando’s eyes, hiding this fact from him. 

“I'm not letting you go so you will have to deal with it,” 

“Fuck you!” Fernando physically spat in Mark’s face, but it didn’t make the Australian flinch. If anything, all it made him do was slam into his hand, which consequently slammed Fernando into the wall. Spots popped in his eyes as he still fought Mark for freedom. 

“Tell me what’s wrong so we can sort this!” Mark snarled. 

“Nothing’s fucking wrong. Nothing needs to be sorted. It’s over. You ruined it. Now run back to you prized teammate and get the fuck out of my face!” Fernando seethed. Mark’s palm made contact with Fernando's cheek at unsympathetic speed. The pain stung ten times more than Fernando expected it to and his hands flew to the point of contact. “Fuck!”

“Don’t talk shit to me about Sebastian; he’s a fucking little devious shit and I don’t have anything to do with the bastard,” Mark’s tone was darker and a small spark of fear ignited in Fernando. He turned his eyes to look at Mark. 

“He’s you’re fucking teammate, of course you do!” There was frustration in Fernando’s voice and anger still burned in him. He released his cheek.

“No I fucking don’t,” Fernando shoved his hands into Mark’s shoulders which managed to catch him off guard. He released Fernando who sprung across the room, heading for the door. Mark threw his hands into Fernando’s shoulder blades and let his whole weight be transferred into the motion. It threw Fernando off balance and he crashed into the floor. Mark climbed on top of him, straddling his waist as he tried to get back up. Mark’s weight again forced Fernando onto the floor, but he wasn’t ready to give up. He tried to push Mark off him and managed to unseat him momentarily. But all this achieved was Mark flipping Fernando over and grasping his wrists, pushing them into the floor. Mark was now seated on top of Fernando, leaning over him with his hands restraining his wrists and his knees pressed into the top of his arms. They were now face to face. Fernando was screaming at him, thrashing his legs out but it didn’t make a difference. Mark’s position was too stable. The two men just glared at each other, both panting heavily trying to regain some energy to overpower the other. Mark took his opportunity. 

“Fuck sake, mate, what’s the matter with you?” Mark exasperated angrily. Fernando was still glaring up at him and his anger felt contagious. 

“What’s the matter with me? I feel so fucking abandoned because my cunt of a so-called best friend shit on me! Sorry if I’ve not got open arms for you mate but I don’t want to waste anymore of my fucking time!” Mark lost his feelings of anger; relieved the Fernando was finally talking to him. He didn’t relax his grip on the Spaniard though because he knew Fernando would take any opportunity he could to get out of this situation. Mark had trapped him with no escape, and he knew how uncomfortable that fact would be making Fernando. 

“Fernando, I’ve explained! It was one fuck up!” the anger had been changed for frustration and he was loosing his patience of repeating himself. How many times did he have to explain?

“And what will the next one be?” 

“There won’t be a next one!”

“And that’s right because I’m never going to tell you anything again!” Fernando snarled. Mark felt crest-fallen. Surely he couldn’t mean that… “Why the fuck did you come here?” Fernando was trying to unseat Mark again, but he just pressed himself into the floor more. He could see the hint of pain in Fernando’s eyes and a faint red mark was beginning to glow on his cheek where Mark had slapped him. 

“We need to-”

“No, Mark, something has fucking happened. You wouldn’t just come all the way out to Spain to apologise!”

“Yes I would! I have!”

“I’m not fucking interested in your apology so if that is all you have come for, go home because I don’t want you anywhere fucking near me!” And it was now. Mark decided that to make Fernando believe he was on his side he had to prove it. He had to tell him everything. He sighed as his tone turned serious. He stared unblinkingly into Fernando’s eyes.

“Sebastian’s got it in for you,” he started, but Fernando interrupted. 

“I fucking know that, it’s kind of hard not to notice when-agh!” Mark put more pressure on Fernando and he gasped, taking the signal that he was to be quiet and let Mark finish. He glared up at Mark but remained silent. Mark continued. 

He just talked. He didn’t hold anything back from Fernando and explained everything that Sebastian had told him about his plan to take Fernando down since Korea. Fernando’s reaction changed from confusion to anger to more confusion. Mark couldn’t read him, but he knew he was doing the right thing. It felt great to finally be getting this stuff off his chest and it felt even better to be telling Fernando. He left out the fact that Sebastian was pulling Mark into this because he liked him; it didn’t seem that important and Mark really didn’t want to divulge that information. He was just rounding off about how Sebastian had set up the lift scenario when Fernando spoke again.

“Why the fuck are you telling me all this? Won’t your boss be pretty pissed?” The anger Fernando was trying to portray was fairly pitiful. Mark knew he had calmed down, thoroughly interested with what Mark was telling him, but Fernando didn’t want to give that away. Mark played along.

“Because he’s not my boss and he’s a fucked-up arse-hole. You deserve to know, mate; its not fair what he’s trying to do,” Mark’s voice was a lot calmer now and he could see Fernando was in deep thought; he had stopped struggling. A few minutes of silence passed before Fernando looked back up at him. 

“So what’s your fucking involvement then? His idea generator?”

“No, Fernando, I’m not his idea generator. I was trying to protect you,”

“I don’t need you protection! I’m a strong man I don’t need someone leading me through life holding my hand!” Fernando’s anger was returning and Mark was determined to defuse it. 

“That’s not what I’m saying. He was trying to split Dasha and you up! God knows what he had up his sleeve next, but I bet it was worse than the argument he instigated in Korea,” The photo Sebastian had shown Fernando before the Japanese Grand Prix swam into his mind. He relaxed a little; kind of glad Mark had prevented Sebastian from showing it to Dasha. But the good feeling was momentary. 

“If he had something worse planned for that, what the fuck has he got planned to follow this?” Panic was clear in Fernando’s voice. Mark was happy they were finally talking as if nothing had happened, but dread filled him as he closed his eyes to reveal the worst piece of information. 

“He has video footage of our whole encounter in the lift,” Mark signed, feeling the man below him tense automatically. He didn’t want to see the sheer horror in Fernando’s eyes so he kept his closed. 

“Maybe, but he can’t have the worst! It-it was pitch black! We couldn’t see a thing…” Fernando’s voice faded as Mark opened his eye to look at him with sorrowful eyes, shaking his head briefly.

“It had night vision… you can see everything… Mate, I am so-” Fernando was in disbelief. Shock was parading through him, but the word ‘mate’ prickled under his flesh and he felt hot with anger again.

“Oh, well that’s good.” He snapped. Mark was momentarily shocked by his sudden mood change, but it was totally understandable. “What exactly is he planning with this?”

“I think he wants to post it online,” At least all the controversy about what happened in the lift would stop Fernando thought to himself. But that wasn’t really any help. 

“And what is he planning on achieving?” 

“I don’t really know, mate, just-”

“Well that’s fucking fantastic!” Fernando snapped anger and sarcasm covering his words. “I’m so glad you came all this way to tell me the little fucker is intending on posting a video of me online which will most defiantly make it difficult for anyone to take me seriously ever again!” 

“It’s not my fault!” Mark challenged in a tone not unlike Fernando’s. “That’s why we need to work together! If we can stop him and prove to him he doesn’t have any power over us then this whole problem goes away!”

“It will just give him more of an incentive to try harder!”

“Not if we play the game back at him!” Mark sounded to gleefully similar to his teammate and it made Fernando hate the man he could see above him. Sebastian’s face was surrounding him again and he felt like he was loosing Mark completely. 

“You can report back that you were unsuccessful again to HQ! I still don’t want anything to do with you!” Mark’s hands instinctively found Fernando’s collar and he pulled his face up towards him. He still had the rest of his body trapped below his legs. Anger was pounding through him and he glowered down into the Spaniard’s eyes. 

“I’ve got nothing to do- I don’t have fucking time for this,” Mark dropped Fernando who fell into the floor with a thump; making more spots pop in his eyes. He climbed off him and headed for the door. Fernando didn’t want him to leave. He was already feeling too distant from the Australian and he wanted Mark to stay and fight for him to understand. His defeat was deflating Fernando as he pushed himself to a sitting position and watched Mark’s retreating figure head for the door. He wanted to call him back or yell more abuse at him, but he couldn’t find the words. He flinched as Mark slammed the door closed behind him and pulled his knees into his body, feeling more alone than ever. 

Mark stormed out of the house, throwing the hire car door open and throwing himself behind the wheel. He had left it slightly down the road from Fernando's house for two reasons: one, he didn’t want Fernando to hear/see him arrive and two, because the small Ford Fiesta he had hire was sure to look out of place next to Fernando’s Ferrari. He pushed the key into the ignition, but instead of turning on the car, he just put his hands on the steering wheel and rested his head between them. That is defiantly not how he had hoped that conversation would go. 

He felt like he wanted to cry; honestly, he thought that was the final straw with Fernando. If he couldn’t persuade him face to face that he was not working with Sebastian then there was no other way. He felt as if Sebastian had won without even doing anything. He had created such perfect situations for it to look fishy for Mark and be able to set concern in Fernando’s head. Mark gently began to bang his head on the steering wheel, feeling his frustration at himself build as he continued. How could he have been so stupid? He had effectively given Sebastian everything he needed to get in between Fernando and himself and now it was unfixable. He was broken. He felt a tear slid down his cheek and instantly hated himself more for being so pathetic. He had brought this upon himself and didn’t deserve any sympathy or pity. It was his fault and now he had to live with it. He pushed himself upright and wiped the tear forcefully from his cheek. He started up the car. Sunlight was streaming down on him and he felt like it should be raining. He hated the stupid contradicting Spanish weather. He just wanted to go home. The gentle tap on the passenger window was almost missed by him over the rumble of the weary engine. But the blue shirt just outside it caught his eye. 

Fernando had obviously changed out of his lycra, deciding on not going out on his bike. He now stood wearing a blue Oakley round-neck t-shirt and jeans. The red mark on his cheek seemed to be glowing in the late morning sun and Mark felt a little bad. He just stared at Fernando with an emotionless expression but the Spaniard broke it down easily with his own. He looked sorry, and he looked pained. Mark moved to wind down the electric window, but Fernando took that as an indication he could get in. He opened the passenger door and settled himself, turning to Mark in time with the thud of the door. 

“I’m sorry, I forgive you… I hope you can forgive me,” Fernando said before Mark could have a chance to stop him. Those words of sharing the blame made him feel closer to Fernando and he couldn’t help himself pulling the Spaniard into a bone-crushing hug. Fernando returned the gesture. 

“Hey, you didn’t do anything that needs forgiving,” Mark sighed into his shoulder, breathing in his scent heavily. There was no racetrack hint to deter from the beautiful natural cologne he emitted. 

“I did, I shouldn’t have-”

“-Shh…” He stroked the back of Fernando’s head and Fernando fell more into Mark’s arms, clinging on for dear life in the fear someone was going to try and take him away again. “It’s all right, Fernando, I forgive you as well,” And the conflict was over. They had both silently agreed. And they were now on the same side, fighting to remain out of Sebastian’s grasp…

\- - - - - - - - - -

Mark dropped his bag on the motel bed. Fernando had asked him when his flight was returning him to England and Mark had told him he had a few days remaining, all thoughts of trying to get an earlier flight vacant from his mind. He had told Fernando, when he asked, that he was staying in a motel not to far away. Fernando had protested and insisted he come and stay with him until he had to leave. So Mark was now back at the motel, re-packing his bag so he could return to Fernando’s with his stuff. It wasn’t a very difficult process; he hadn’t brought much with him. He was looking forward to spending the next few days with Fernando, considering when he left this morning he had never believed it would have been possible. He was just placing his jeans into his bag, on top of his trainers he had brought so he could keep up his training routine when his mobile rang. He smirked, assuming it was Fernando, but when he looked at the screen it fell off his face. He answered, already feeling anger beginning to itch under his skin. 

“Hello,” he said in a dry tone, not wanting to have this conversation. 

“Mark! How are you?”

“I’m not bad, Sebastian,” he replied. There was a moment of silence where both men were waiting for the other to speak. “What do you want?” 

“Just wondered where you were, thought we could go get a drink and catch up,”

“Why would you want to do that? We’ve never done it before,”

“No better time to start then, “ There was another pause in which Mark sighed. 

“Maybe some other time, mate, I’m a bit busy at the moment,”

“Oh, shame,” although Sebastian’s voice didn’t seem disappointed at all. “Where are you?”

“At home,” Mark lied as he continued to pack his bag. 

“That’s odd, because there’s no one here,” Mark froze. No, Sebastian couldn’t be in his house. There was no way he could get in. He pressed himself to remain calm. 

“What do you mean, I’m sitting at home right now,” he said with all the confidence he could muster, sinking into sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Oh, Mark, don’t lie to me. I’m in your house, right now, and there is no one but me and your dog here,” 

“I don’t believe you,” 

“OK,” There was a pause for a little while and then the phone at Mark’s ear buzzed, making him jump slightly. He looked down at the screen seeing the message from Seb with a photo attached. He opened it and saw a photo of Sebastian crouched next to his dog in front of his living room with a smirk on his face. He nearly dropped his phone in the hast to get it back to his ear. 

“How the fuck did you get in?” he growled and heard Sebastian snicker on the other end of the line.

“It’s not important. What is, however, is where you are right now, I need to know you’re not doing anything stupid… do you know how easy and quick it would be for me to post something on line even whilst on the phone to you?” Mark swallowed; fear making him perspire and he felt the first few drops trickle down his neck.

“Not long,” he muttered. 

“Yes, not very long at all.” There was another pause. “So where are you?”

“Out,”

“A little birdy told me you had gone to Spain, I can’t think of any reason you would have done, since the team is based here in England,” Mark didn’t know what to say back. Christian had called him and asked why he wasn’t on the plane home and he had told him he would be shortly, he was just taking a small vacation to Spain for a couple of days. That was how Sebastian knew, but it filled Mark with dread at the concept of Sebastian actually being in his house. He couldn’t figure out how he had done it. 

“You’re little bird must have got it wrong, I'm not in Spain, I'm in England… Just not at home,” Mark said with a surprising amount of confidence. He could tell this had caught Seb off guard, as there was a pause that was a little longer than he had expected it to be. Mark steadied his breathing. 

“Did you know your friend lives in Spain?”

“I was aware.”

“And has he replied to you yet?”

“No.”

“I really hope you’re not lying to me, Mark. This really wouldn’t bode well for him if you were,”

“And I really hope you’re out of my fucking house before I get home. If you’re not, it really won’t bode well for you,”

“When will that be?”

“Don’t test me, Seb, I could be back any minute. Not sure how much you would suit a broken nose… or leg,” Mark replied darkly.

“We will see,” Sebastian replied, but Mark could sense some fear in his words. The line went dead and Mark dropped the phone beside him on the bed, running his hands over his face and falling back onto the bed. 

Shit. This was… Yeah, he’d put Fernando in the shit.


	7. Speed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If someone is going down the wrong road, he doesn't need motivation to speed him up. What he needs is education to turn him around."  
> ~Jim Rohn~

Mark was anticipating his few days with Fernando. Once he had packed his things, he had left the hotel and taken his rental car back to the rental studio. Fernando was waiting there for him with his Ferrari, leaning on it casually with his dark shades on. He was still wearing his blue Oakley shirt and jeans from earlier. He had an air of relaxation about him and Mark was hasty in his drop off. He practically dropped the keys on the desk and ran out the door. As he approached, Fernando seemed distracted somewhat, his arms folded and a crease formed in between his eyebrows, suggesting he was frowning. His expression changed when Mark approached. 

“All ready?” Fernando smiled. Mark let the frown pass – he would ask about it later. He lifted his bag towards Fernando and smirked, dropping it into the Spaniard’s hands. 

“Yes. Thank you, chauffeur,” Mark winked as Fernando rolled his eyes, smiling. “Nice ride you got for me,”

“Only the best,” Fernando put Mark’s bag in the boot and tapped the roof of his car affectionately. 

“For the best?” Mark suggested. 

“I appreciate that you think I’m the best, Mark,” Fernando joked as the two men got in. Mark was as impressed by the interior as he was by the exterior. He couldn’t wait to hear the engine roar as they blasted down the country roads to Fernando’s house. 

“She’s a beaut, mate,” Mark stated as he looked over at Fernando. He wished the driver would remove his glasses so he could at least have some hope of reading his expression; he felt as if Fernando was shielding him off. Mark knew this wasn’t the case, but the guard made him feel much further away from Fernando than he truly was. He pulled his glasses off the top of his head and pushed them on, looking back out of the window. 

“You just wait,” Fernando said in an admiring tone as he turned on the ignition, setting off the car’s glorious groan. Mark closed his eyes and just took in the perfectly pitched engine, feeling automatically alive with the urge to race. Fernando was looking over at him, smirking. 

“I should have drove for Ferrari; I want a exquisite car,”

“I’m sure you get a free years supply of energy drinks,”

“You’re funny,” Mark said in a flat tone as Fernando exhaled a laugh and pulled away. Mark still kept his eyes closed and just let the sounds of the car engulf him. It wasn’t until about ten minutes had passed that Mark sat up, realising he had dosed off. He looked over to see Fernando’s content face as he drove the route to his house. The sun had begun to set and the magnificent red streaks were blotching to purple as the orange orb sunk below the line of the trees. Mark pushed himself up.

“It’s all right, you can go back to sleep if you want,” Fernando commented, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“How did you know I was asleep?” Mark asked curiously. 

“You stopped talking,” Fernando smirked. Mark smiled too and turned his head back to the setting sun. It was a half-hour journey to Fernando’s from the car rental studio and he assumed they had been driving about ten minutes. The sun was already low when they left the car rental studio and was dropping away rapidly. 

“I don’t want to miss this,” Mark stated, indicating to the sun. Fernando frowned.

“You’ve never seen a sun set before?”

“Yes, many time back in Australia. Don’t see it much in England, but this is special; it’s different somehow,” Mark didn’t really know what point he was trying to make. It was different and special because he had never seen a sun set in Spain before. The way the colours of the sky bounced off the anomalous landscape intrigued Mark and he felt like he wanted to capture every moment. Fernando glanced over at Mark, who had removed his sunglasses when he woke up, and saw a sparkle in his eyes. He pulled over to the edge of the road, stopping the car. Mark turned to look at him, confused. 

“Come on then,” Fernando smiled as he pushed himself out of the car. Mark, still confused, followed suit. 

“Why have we stopped?”

“You wanted to watch the sun, and it is a lot easier for you to enjoy it when you are not fighting with trees,” Mark looked around and noticed that Fernando had stopped it what appeared to be a clearing. There were no trees blocking them from seeing the sun disappear behind a nearby hill. Mark looked over at Fernando, smiling, and moved back over to him. 

“Thanks,” Mark muttered, blushing slightly.

“No problem,” Fernando smiled. He leaned against the bonnet of the car and gestured for Mark to join him. Mark rested his hands down beside him on the smooth body of the car whereas Fernando had his folded across his chest, just as he had in the car rental studio. The purple was becoming more vivid in the sky and the orb was dipping ever closer to the top of the hill. He turned to Fernando. 

“Don’t you…” Mark started, struggling to find the words. Fernando looked over at him. “Do you do this often?” Fernando shrugged and Mark had an impulse to tear the glasses from his face. 

“It is something that happens every day. I have watched it once or twice with Dasha but it’s just very… Slow” Fernando turned back to the sun whilst Mark programmed his words. He knew Fernando like to live life full of speed, but he had always though Dasha would have slowed him just a little, made him appreciate the slower things of life.

“Do you not think it is pretty sensational, though?” Mark asked, feeling himself lean closer towards Fernando. Fernando didn’t look at him. “I mean, right now, you are physically watching the world turn,” his tone was admiring and he willed Fernando to understand the beauty.

“I know. It’s very slow.” Mark couldn’t understand how he could only be seeing things from one point of view; he had to make his point. Mark moved over to Fernando and pulled him off the car. He pulled him in front of him and pulled the Spaniard close to his body. Mark rested his head on Fernando’s shoulder and removed his sunglasses, finally seeing those coffee filled irises looking back at him. Fernando made to protest, but Mark put a finger on his lips. 

“Shh. You’re going to take it all in.” Fernando turned back to the hill and went to take his glasses back from Mark. Mark moved them away. “Nope. You don’t need these to experience this.” Fernando pouted, but didn’t try to fight any more. There was no harm in Mark trying to make this a little more fun; the slow process of watching the sun set wasn’t all that exhilarating and he welcomed the attempt to make it a little more enjoyable. 

“Now, close your eyes.” Mark whispered in his ear. He felt the heat of Mark’s breath on the back of his neck and it sent a shiver down his spine. He tried to focus. 

“I won’t be able to see it with my eyes close,” Fernando remarked. Mark sighed.

“Close them so I can make you understand,” Fernando rolled his eyes before letting the lids close. He felt Mark’s arms wrap around his waist, his breath still warm on the back of his neck. “What colours can you see?” Fernando felt like a three-year-old being encouraged to understand something simple by an adult. He didn’t want to play this game; he just wanted to get in his car and drive quickly, leaving the setting sun behind him. But Mark’s arms suggested more than just a game and Fernando was curious to find out what those small circles he was rubbing into his sides meant. 

“Red,” he muttered. He heard Mark snicker gently behind him. 

“Why is that not surprising,” Mark smiled, making Fernando do the same, letting out a small breathy laugh. “OK, so what is the first thing you think of when you think of that colour?” And answer came quickly to Fernando’s lips. 

“Speed.” 

“So think of it this way. That setting sun is captivating everything in the world right now. If you think about how much there is to capture in just these ten minutes of movement that’s quite a speedy process,” Fernando let his eyes flutter open, with now a whole new perspective on what he was seeing. His mouth dropped open slightly and he was no longer just watching the slow turns of the earth, but understanding – in a new way – what that movement represented. And it was magnificent. The way the colours seeped together, never stopping but always moving. Never truly still, just like how he viewed himself. He felt in tune with the whole process, which was being echoed by Mark’s soothing circles on his waist. He let his eyes shut again, breathing it all in.

“But sometimes, to be able to take everything in, you have to slow down – even if it’s just for ten minutes…” Mark’s voice faded at the end of his sentence, But Fernando was no longer listening anyway. He was leaning his head back into Mark, trying to take in every aspect of this moment with his eyes shut. And that was when it happened.

Mark pressed his lips lightly onto Fernando’s neck. 

It was such a small, intimate gesture that Fernando wasn’t even sure it had truly happened. But when it happened again, this time lingering for a moment longer, Fernando opened his eyes. He turned his head slightly to look at Mark and saw the Australia staring back at him with that glint in his eyes. His light breath touched Fernando’s face in a warm embrace, they were extremely close and Fernando suddenly realised the intimacy of their position. Awkwardness threatened to bubble over Fernando’s mind, but something in Mark’s eyes stopped it abruptly in its tracks. There was no one else around anywhere close. The proximity reminded Fernando of the moment in the lift when Mark had been this close. They had both leaned in, just as they were now. But they couldn’t see each other then; the darkness had hidden the emotions and awkward feeling for them both. Until the doors had opened. 

Fernando pushed out of Mark’s grasp when the memory of that moment flooded through him and he couldn't face the feeling again. He settled himself back into his old position, wanting his glasses so badly, but the sun was nearly down now and there was no longer any need. Mark looked over at Fernando, desperately trying to read something for his expression. Sadness was blinding him and he couldn’t believe they had been so close again but not proceeded. He wanted to know why Fernando had pushed away so abruptly, but the Spaniard had had too much practice hiding his true emotions and what unreadable as he looked down at his feet, kicking the gravel. It was as if the last ten minutes hadn’t happened. Mark looked back up at the hill to watch the last part of the sun disappear, leaving its glow behind in the quickly darkening sky. 

“Thanks, mate,” Mark said in his normal tone. He smiled over at Fernando, hoping he could convey in his look that he was pretending that nothing had happened. Fernando smiled back, accepting his offer. They both climbed back into the car and Fernando drove the rest of the journey in silence, his glasses now perched on the dashboard, as there was no longer a need for them. Mark glanced at him every now and then but knew there was no point in bringing any of the incident up; he had only just got back onto speaking terms with Fernando from the last one and he wasn’t ready to just throw that all away. He remained silent also. 

Once back at Fernando’s, he retrieved his stuff from the car and let himself be lead to his room. It was much nicer than the motel he had been staying in and resembled something along the lines of his hotel room in Monaco. He thanked Fernando again, who left, muttering something about dinner. Mark unpacked his bag and laid on his bed, trying to think of anything but their almost embrace. He wondered if maybe when he had kissed Fernando’s neck he had ruined it, but he pushed a pillow over his head, beating the thought from his mind. Fernando called him a little while later, telling him he had made dinner. Mark and he sat in silence as they ate, both trying to think of a way to break the awkwardness that was falling between them. After dinner, Mark retired to his room, bidding Fernando good night. He showered and climbed into bed, forcing himself to keep his hand from sliding into his boxers…

\- - - - - - -

The next day his phone buzzing close to his ear had awoke Mark. He slid the phone unlocked and his stomach dropped as he realised who had sent the text and read it:

Saw you didn’t make it home last night. Shame.

He had a sudden compulsion to send back a text telling Seb to back off and what was the problem if he was in Spain, but he didn’t. Instead, he dropped the phone onto his bedside table and headed for another shower – his will power hadn’t lasted long last night. Once dressed and freshened up, he walked out of his room to a wonderful smell emitting from the kitchen. As he walked in, he noticed Fernando cooking again, wearing a loose green and white round-necked shirt with loose black shorts and his trainers. Mark assumed he had been for a run. 

“Do you ever stop?” Mark asked, truly bemused by his friend’s constant activity. Fernando kept his back to him, still concentrating on the food. 

“Not when I have a guest,” Fernando replied in an even tone. Mark was worried that Fernando still had the incident from the day before stuck in his head. He was answered when Fernando placed a plate in front of Mark, but didn’t produce a second. “I’m going to shower, enjoy,” Fernando stated, already heading out of the door. Mark pushed himself up from the table and followed him out, grabbing his wrist just before he embarked on the stairs. 

“Fernando, wait-”

“-Mark, I need to shower, I have a very busy day-”

“-Just forget it happened.” Fernando looked up into Mark’s eyes conveying a little shock. Mark couldn’t go through this not talking again. He was determined to sort it out before it got out of control. Fernando started to blush as he looked down at the floor. “It’s not like you had anything to do with it, it was me. Just claim we got a little caught up in the moment and leave it at that,” Fernando nodded and Mark tilted his chin up so he looked at him again. That feeling returned to Fernando’s stomach and he felt himself convert the weight into his toes. But that memory. That fucking memory. He let his weight fall back, wanting to look away from Mark who was oblivious to the motion. 

“Sorry,” Fernando muttered and Mark let go of his chin, moving his hand to clap him on the shoulder. 

“That’s alright,” he smiled. “Now get up stairs and shower; you stink,” Mark winked before departing back towards the kitchen. 

“Mark?” Fernando’s voice made him stop and turn on the spot. 

“Yes, mate?”

“I’m going down to look at some of the other cars they have for me to put in my exhibition in Madrid and I wondered if you wanted to come with me?” Fernando was looking at his feet as he asked. 

“Sounds great,” Mark smiled and Fernando looked up brightly. 

“OK, lets be ready to leave in thirty minutes?” 

“I’ll be there,” Fernando smiled again and disappeared up the stairs. Mark returned to the kitchen and settled in the chair to start on the breakfast Fernando had made him; they were going to be fine. 

\- - - - -

Driving down the motorway was a little boring; the scenery wasn’t very spectacular and the car just reminded Mark of the events from yesterday. Fernando seemed absolutely fine after he had returned from his shower, awaiting Mark by the front door. He was watching the road again, with a calm expression.  If he can forget it, so can you  Mark growled at himself as he turned his attention back out of the passenger side window. He needed to get over this for the sake of their friendship but with Sebastian breathing down his throat he felt the need to protect Fernando and so found himself in the Spaniard’s company more than he used to. This was not going to be easy. 

“…So I was thinking that would be nice because it’s your last night,” Fernando’s voice faded into his brain as he finished his sentence. “Mark?”

“Huh?”

“Are you OK?”

“Fine. Just thinking. What did you say?” Fernando was looking at Mark with a suspicious expression but let it go, knowing Mark obviously didn’t want to talk about it. 

“I just said it would be nice if we all went out for a meal tonight because it is your last night and I don’t want to turn you off Spain with any more of my ridiculous cooking,” Mark smiled at his last comment. 

“I don’t mind your cooking,”

“You will when you taste proper Spanish food,” Fernando remarked, taking a quick glance at Mark to show his sincerity. This made the Australian laugh and Fernando smiled, turning back to the road. “So, what do you say?”

“Looking forward to it,” Mark said, leaning his arm on the side of the car and turning to face Fernando more. “But who is ‘all of us’?” 

“You, Dasha and I – she flies in tonight,” Fernando says casually. Of course Fernando wasn’t going to take Mark out for a meal on his own, not after what almost happened yesterday. Mark felt lucky Fernando was even speaking to him. He would let it go. 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Mark said, following Fernando’s gaze out of the front window. “Any where special we’re going or just your normal tapas bar?” Fernando put on a devious smile, which made Mark squirm slightly in anticipation. 

“You will have to wait and see,” Fernando pulled off on the next junction, taking them off the motorway. “And I am paying so no arguing,” 

“Whatever you say,” Mark smirked, but the buzz of anticipation was still strong in his stomach. 

\- - - - -

Fernando had told Mark to dress formally and so the Australian was sporting a white shirt with the collar undone and brown jeans. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and shaved. Fernando looked impressed when he emerged from his room. But what Fernando didn’t realise was how hard he was making this for Mark to not think about him in any other way than a friend. He had dark jeans on with a dark brown leather jacket half zipped and slightly revealing his blue shirt underneath of which he had also left the collar undone. Mark had to force himself to not lick his lips in anticipation. 

Dasha was already at the restaurant, which to call fancy would be an understatement. As soon as she and Fernando became in close proximity of each other there were hands around waists and gentle kisses, which made Mark turn away, not wanting to see. She had a blue knee-length dress on and her hair was in gentle curls. As they were seated, Mark passed on a compliment to Dasha and she thanked him, joking about how she never thought Fernando would persuade him to dress up as she had never seen him looking so nice before. He thanked her before falling silent, just letting himself be dragged into the conversation every now and then to not appear rude. 

Fernando was a lot more comfortable sharing a meal with Mark than he had been with Sebastian, Dasha had realised. It wasn’t a shock to her, but she was relieved that he appeared to almost be his normal self. There were moments, though, she was sure where Mark and Fernando’s eyes would meet in a minute of silence and her boyfriend would look down at his food, blushing slightly. She couldn’t put her finger on why, but as the evening went on and more wine was drunk, she failed to continue to notice it. 

Fernando was driving and so was not drinking. The wine was being happily shared between Mark and Dasha, although he was a little disgruntled at how unenthusiastic Mark appeared to be in their company. His and Dasha’s hands were softly linked and resting on the table whilst they waited for their deserts to arrive and Fernando couldn’t help but notice Mark’s gaze falling on it every now and then with a frown. He couldn’t understand what would be so puzzling about the simple gesture, but it was making him feel self-conscious. For the second group meal he and Dasha had been out on in a row, Dasha was, again, holding the conversation whilst Fernando was trying to understand and read the third guest. 

“…Isn’t it great what they are doing down there?” Dasha was asking Mark in reference to Fernando’s exhibition in Madrid. 

“Yeah, it’s great. It’s nice there is a place the fans can go and see all of his car together,” Mark answered in a tone Fernando couldn’t work out. Was it reserved? Happy? Calm? Annoyed? Impatient? This was too difficult. Dasha excused herself as her phone rang and she departed momentarily. Fernando took his chance to swoop in on Mark.

“What’s wrong?” Fernando asked, bluntly. Mark rubbed his hand across his face, looking annoyed.  At himself or me? Fernando mused impatiently. 

“Nothing,” Mark sighed.

“Tell me because she will soon notice and she won’t let it go,” Fernando indicated his head towards the door Dasha had disappeared through and Mark glared at the water jug on the table, not looking up at Fernando. 

“It really is nothing,” He exasperated, letting his eyes close as he fell back on the chair. Fernando saw Dasha moving back toward the entrance door through the window; there wasn’t anymore time. 

“Fine, then act like it. I don’t want her to think you don’t like her,” Fernando stated, coming up with the only reasonable explanation he could think of for Mark’s mood.

“I do like her,”

“Then act like it!” Fernando snapped in a low tone as Dasha returned to the table. She slid her hands across the back of Fernando’s shoulders before giving him a small squeeze and sitting herself back down. 

“That was just my agent,” She said, retaking Fernando’s hand.

“What did he want?” She was shocked that it was Mark who had spoke, but answered anyway.

“Just some details about my next job,” She smiled as Mark sipped on his water. 

“When is that?” Fernando asked. She turned to look at her boyfriend, seeing the sadness in his eyes. 

“Four days,” her eyes were glowing with apology; she wanted to stay with him in Spain for longer as well. But her job was her job.

“Not so bad, there is a lot we can do in three days,” Fernando mused, removing his hand from hers so the waiter could place down their deserts. Dasha blushed at the sight of Mark’s knowing expression. 

“You have got to race soon, mate,” Mark smirked, bringing Fernando’s attention to him. There was relief in the Spaniard’s eyes telling Mark he appreciated his change of attitude. Mark gave him a subtle nod. 

“Yes, but I will have a good few days to recover,” Fernando grinned. 

“Fernando!” Dasha outburst, her face streaked with brilliant red. The tow men laughed as they all began their deserts. Fernando was content as he began his one bad thing of the week. He knew he probably shouldn’t be eating the chocolate cake with whipped cream, but he promised himself he would do an extra half-hour of training in the morning to compensate. He beamed to himself as he took the first bite. 

The conversation halted temporarily as the three of them ate the final delicacies of the evening. Mark had never had such good food in his life. It had all been amazing and he truly felt well fed. He looked up at Fernando, planning on making some joke about how he would never eat his cooking again when he saw it. Just on Fernando’s top lip, completely oblivious to the man himself, a small drop if whipped cream was sitting. Mark’s mouth fell open slightly and his fork clattered noisily onto his plate. This made both Dasha and Fernando look up at him, startled, but when he made eye contact with Fernando he felt a surge of lust run through his body. 

Fernando was looking up at him through his long lashes. He looked so fucking sexy with that cream on his lip, Mark almost didn’t have the heart to tell him it was there. He wanted to take a photo just to look at whenever he wanted to. He looked so gorgeous in his blue shirt that was slightly open, exposing some of his smooth chest. And that cream. Mark wanted to look away, or at least close his mouth. But he couldn’t. The only movement his body could deliver right now was happening between his legs. He was glad the table was blocking him from view. 

“Mark? Are you OK?” Dasha asked, a frown appearing on her face. Mark blushed slightly, but still couldn’t remove his eyes from Fernando. He still looked at him, his face slowly turning to a frown. 

“Err... Yeah… Just…” Mark cleared his throat and shifted slightly in his chair, instantly regretting it. He fought to find his voice and instead just ended up gesturing with his hands to his own lips, still looking at Fernando. Dasha looked over at her boyfriend and clocked the cream on his lip. She laughed. 

“Nano, you’ve got… I’ll get it,” Instead of using her finger to remove the cream; she gently brushed her lips to the spot and licked it off. Desire flashed between Fernando and her eyes and it was almost in non-verbal agreement that they knew where this would lead when they got home. Mark frowned down at his cake, finishing it off, annoyed at himself for being so obvious and jealous of Dasha. He tried not to let the latter fog his brain but it was charging in thick and fast. He glared at his now empty plate, forcing himself to calm down for Fernando’s sake. 

Once they had all finished, Fernando called for the bill and Dasha left to ask for something from the kitchen. In the moment of silence around the table, Fernando shot Mark a you-are-going-to-need-to-explain-yourself-later look and panic dropped in his stomach. Yes, he truly had been too obvious and Fernando had clocked it. First in the lift, then with the sunrise, and now this. Could he ever catch a break?

They left the restaurant and Dasha – again – prevented the situation from becoming awkward. She talked about something neither of the two men were listening to whilst cradling a cardboard cake box in her hands. Mark knew what that mean and really hoped he wouldn't be able to hear anything. The drive home was quicker than they expected and Mark bid the pair good night, heading for his room. 

Fernando told Dasha to go on ahead and he would be up in a moment. This idea of being left alone seemed to make Dasha very happy and she rushed off up the stairs to Fernando’s bedroom, still cradling the box carefully in her hands. Fernando followed Mark and entered the room after him, just to see Mark fall backwards onto the bed, face covering his hands. 

“What is going on?” Fernando asked, startling Mark. He released his face and propped himself up from his position by leaning on his elbows. 

“It’s really nothing, mate, just drop it,” Mark sighed, not wanting to have this conversation now. 

“But I can’t, because you keep doing things like this! Tell me, Mark, I want to help you,” Fernando placed himself on the edge of the bed, but Mark pushed himself up so he was on his feet. 

“I really don’t want to ruin your night, Fernando, just let it go,”

“You’ll ruin it by not telling me,” Fernando pouted, folding his arms and Mark felt the surge of lust flood through him again. He pushed himself closer to the wall, away from Fernando. 

“It’s not your problem; it’s mine,”

“But I want to help!”

“Fine!” Mark extracted his phone from his pocket, unlocked it to his message from Sebastian and threw it at Fernando who casually caught it. He hated lying to him, but Mark knew the truth right now would be harder to deal with. Fernando frowned at the screen and then converted the look to Mark. 

“I don’t understand,”

“He’s worried I have told you what he is planning,” Mark lowered his voice aware Dasha was just upstairs. Fernando took the hint, doing the same. 

“So?”

“So? He doesn’t want you to know. He knows I am here in Spain and thinks I have come over to tell you everything,”

“But that is why you came over,”

“I know,” Mark shook his head slightly, still perplexed by how well his teammate could read him. 

“So what are you going to do?”

“I go back tomorrow, just guess I will have to see what he does and work from there,” Mark shrugged, taking back his phone. Fernando gives him a suspicious look. 

“And that’s all that has been bothering you?” 

“Yes, I may seem like I’ve got it under control but you literally have no idea what kind of shit he could bring to light,” Fernando seemed to accept his lie and got up from the bed.

“If you need to talk-”

“I know, thanks. Now go and have a good night,” Mark winked which made Fernando smile that warm, amazing smile. Fernando went to hug him, but Mark stepped back, holding out his hand instead. Fernando took it sceptically.

“Good night, Mark,” He said.

“Night, Fernando,” Mark smiled, trying to remain acting normal. Finally, Fernando departed to his own room and Mark fell back on the bed, trying to think of anything but Fernando’s lip covered with that cream. That thought was not helping him forget about the friction of his jeans between his legs…

\- - - - -

Mark felt bad that he had just left Fernando’s without saying good-bye and just leaving a note. But he had to leave. He needed some time to clear his head and being around Fernando any longer was not going to help that. He kept his plain black cap low as he passed through customs, not wanting to be recognised. He knew Fernando would find his note and not Dasha; he was always up ridiculously early to train. Guilt panged in his stomach as he sat in the lounge, tapping his phone on his knee as he had just a few days ago in a very similar setting. He couldn’t believe it had been five days and he felt like he had made no progress. Here he was, sitting in a crowded airport waiting lounge, begging for his flight to be called to board at the same time as willing his phone to vibrate, letting him know that Fernando had text him, telling him he understood. 

With nothing but a blank screen, he boarded the plane, wishing in some respects he had never come to Spain…


	8. Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In a relationship each person should support the other; they should lift each other up."  
> ~Taylor Swift~

Slamming. Yes, she could hear slamming. Was it Mark? She let her eyes open and clung tighter to what she thought was Fernando. Opening her eyes properly, she realised it was just a pillow she was holding onto. She pushed herself out of the bed when she heard a cry on pain. She froze somewhat, not really sure how to continue. A few moments passed before the slamming recommended. She sighed.

Quickly gathering her thoughts, Dasha pulled on her pyjama shorts and grabbed one of Fernando's shirts that was on the side. She knew he had no intentions of wearing it today or it would have been hung up in the wardrobe. She lightly walked over to the door and opened it, letting the sounds of slamming get louder. As she crept from the room, Fernando's shirt falling just below the line of her shorts, more noises emitted from down the stairs and whoever was making the commotion had moved on from the cupboard doors and was now causing havoc around the room. 

The kitchen door is shut, she realised as she descended the stairs. That was where the disturbance was coming from and she gingerly completed the journey. She slowly opened the door and stuck her head in the room, taking in the scene in front of her. Nothing looked out of place furniture wise, but whoever it was had practically thrown everything from the cupboards. As she let herself in the room, she noticed the broken plate on the countertop and one shard of china that was red rather than cream. It's been slammed down in frustration and broke, she assumed, realising whomever it was was injured. As she turned to see the sofa in the lounge at a funny angle, she also clocked the outline of someone sitting with their back to her. 

Fernando. 

She moved over to him quickly until she was sitting next to him. He was fuming: his face was locked in a frown of anger and he was pressing kitchen roll onto the side of his left hand with his right. She wanted to cup his face and kiss him lightly until that horrific expression broke, but she knew that was pointless. She moved closer to him, placing her left hand cautiously on his shoulder. He sighed a little contently at her touch and she clocked the screwed up ball of paper on the table in front of them. 

"What's wrong?" Dasha asked, beginning to rub smooth circles into his shoulder. He let his eyes close, relaxing a little. 

"Nothing. I'm fine." Fernando sighed. Dasha stopped so abruptly Fernando opened his eyes to look at her. He wished he hadn't. She was giving him a look that showed him she didn't believe him.

"Fernando, look around you. You're defiantly not alright," Dasha said, folding her arms. Fernando just looked at her, really not wanting to explain. He felt that his actions were too extreme and Dasha would think he was petty if he told her he had only made this mess because Mark had left without saying goodbye. He pushed himself off the chair and away from her, heading over to the sink. She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head slightly. When she heard the water running into the sink, she leant forwards and quietly flattered out the ball of paper. Taking a glance over her shoulder to make sure Fernando was not watching her, she read the scribble words:

Sorry, I couldn't stay any longer. I had to go, I hope you understand.

Fernando winced as the cool water hit his broken skin. How was it he kept causing himself injuries because he wasn't thinking? He needed to clear his head and forget about everything that had happened in the past couple of weeks. He had hoped that his run would have cleared his head this morning, but he had found the note from Mark just before he had left, and all the run had accomplished was making his anger pump quicker around his body. He threw the sodden kitchen roll in the bin and placed a plaster cautiously on the side of his hand. Making his way to start tidying up, he was confronted by Dasha, who had finally followed him into the kitchen. He saw the paper loosely hanging from her hand and blushed slightly. 

She didn't say anything, she just pulled him into a tight embrace. Passing on the message she understood and he didn't have to explain. He let her take his hand and lead him back onto the sofa, where he curled onto her lap, feeling vulnerable and weak. She stroked his hair lightly as he fought back tears. Why was he reacting this way?

"I don't understand," Fernando muttered. 

"It doesn't matter," Dasha cooed. Fernando pushed himself up so he was looking at her.

"Why do I care so much? I'll see him again at the race in just over a week," 

"It's alright to care," she cupped his face and he lent into her touch. 

"But I don't understand," 

"You guys are really close, you care about each other. You're just annoyed that he just left with no real explanation," Fernando knew what Mark's cryptic message really meant. He could stay because of what he hadn't told him last night. That fact just annoyed him more; what was he hiding from him? And why couldn't he tell him? 

"You don't think I overreacted," Fernando muttered, glancing over at the mess in the kitchen. Dasha smiled softly, catching a small tear that had escaped onto Fernando's cheek. 

"Not at all," he sighed slightly and brought her close to him, catching her lips in a thanking kiss. He moved his kisses down her neck where he rested his head on her shoulder, just breathing her in. He caught his own smell mixed with hers as he registered the fact she was wearing his blue Oakley shirt. He pushed the association with Mark this t-shirt brought out of his mind and pulled her closer. His eyes glowed as he took in how stunning she looked even in his clothes. She pushed him slightly off her, encouraging him off the sofa. 

"Now go shower and I will clean up your mess and get breakfast ready," she said, steering him towards the door. 

"You don't have to, Dash, I can clear it," 

"It's fine, Nano, go shower," she smiled and Fernando kissed her again. He gently patted her arse as she moved towards the kitchen and sighed happily leaving and heading up the stairs. His eyes fell on the door of the guest room that was slightly ajar. Another shot of rage flew through him, but he shook it off, not letting Mark bother his thoughts. He always got a funny feeling in his stomach whenever he thought of Mark, and he had a horrible feeling it had some relation to what happened when they were watching the sun set...

\- - - - - - - - - -

"Look who finally decided to show up," Sebastian stated as Mark walked through the factory doors. He was seated on top of a desk and was swinging his legs back and forth in a child-like manner. Mark didn't even acknowledge him as he headed straight past him towards Christian's office. Sebastian pushed himself off the desk top and caught up to him. 

"Did you have a nice trip?" He asked, still with that smug expression on his face.

"What does it matter to you?" Mark snapped. Sebastian was shocked; he had expected three days with Fernando would have calmed Mark. He shrugged to himself. 

"I'm curious... But obviously not," Sebastian added, answering his own question. Mark stopped walking and turned on Sebastian.

"I'm really not in the mood for you today so could you just back off?" Mark was angry. He felt he had only fucked things up more with Fernando and he didn't want to hear any more crap from Sebastian. 

"Is he still not talking to you?" Seb seemed genuinely shocked until he added, in a sly tone: "That was a waste of a journey, then, wasn't it," Mark audibly growled and continued on, hoping Sebastian wouldn't follow him. But he did. Of course he did. 

"Why are you still here?" Mark exasperated. 

"I need to know what you told him so I know what I need to do next," Sebastian stated honestly, making Mark, again, stop in his tracks. 

"What do you mean, next?" 

"Just tell me what you told him, Mark," 

"Why?" Mark - for once - felt in a position of power over his teammate and he wasn't going to relinquish it easily. 

"I need to know my next step," 

"Which is?" 

"I don't know unless you tell me what he knows," 

"Why would I help you?" 

"Because if you don't I can make it very awkward between the pair of you," Sebastian was calm in his speech. Mark scoffed at him and continued walking, confusing the German severely. 

"If that's all you got to bribe me with, Seb, I think I'm safe withholding this information," Mark echoed Sebastian's calm tone. Seb grabbed his arm, stopping him from moving.

"Woah. Hold on, you told him?" Mark scratched the back of his neck absent-mindedly. 

"Not in so many words," he muttered, not entirely sure why he was telling Seb. 

"Then what, exactly?" And there it was. Someone was truly interested in hearing about his problem with Fernando. The only other person who would genuinely listen was the man himself, but there was no way he could talk to Fernando about this. So Sebastian was here, ready to listen, and Mark couldn't pass up the opportunity to get it off his chest. 

"It was fine, and then... I think I was too obvious and now he suspects something, but I can't tell him because it would ruin him. He is happy with Dasha and I shouldn't want to ruin that for him..."

"But you do?" Seb encouraged. Mark fell back against the wall and rubbed his hands over his face and rested them in his hair. 

"Partially. But I can't. He would never forgive me and I don't want to," 

"You know you just contradicted yourself, right?" 

"I know! This is just all too fucked up! I thought I would be OK just being his friend, but then he does something and I will let myself hope he feels the same, only to have those hopes smashed on the ground, which leaves me feeling like a twat," 

"Mark, if its hurting you this much, maybe you should just tell him..." Sebastian placed a genuinely supportive hand on Mark's shoulder, but Mark didn't trust his sympathy. He shrugged it off abruptly. 

"I'm sure you would love that; get me to do your dirty work for you. No chance." Mark stormed off down the corridor and Sebastian jogged to catch him up. 

"Mark, I'm being serious-" 

"I'll bet, and then once I've done it you move forwards with your 'next step'?" Sebastian was a little hurt by Mark's accusation, but he could hardly blame him. Given the evidence he had provided him with in the last few weeks, he would have probably found it hard to believe he was being genuine himself. It was ironic that the one time Sebastian was really trying to help, Mark wouldn't listen. 

"All I'm saying is don't let this ruin what you two have. Loads of drivers would love to have such a close friendship with other drivers on the grid, but there desire to win makes them reserved. Mark, I see how happy he makes you and I don't want to see you sad. As much as you probably don't believe it I really do like you and it angers me that someone could make you feel this shit," Mark turned to the German. Could this have really been an incentive to take Fernando down? No, what was he thinking. Sebastian didn't care about him. 

"At least think about it," Sebastian said, clapping Mark's shoulder as he disappeared down a corridor to the left, heading for the simulator. Mark watched his retreating figure thrust his hands in his pockets and hunch his back, looking at the floor. He couldn't have been being genuine, right? Mark placed his hand on the door handle to Christian's office with his eyes still on Seb. It amazed him how Sebastian could read him so well, but Mark rarely had a clue about what was on Sebastian's mind.

He sighed, shaking his head with an amused smile at the complexity of their relationship, and knocked gentle on the door, turning the handle and letting himself in.


	9. Logic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it.”  
> ~Rabindranath Tagore~

Mark was sat in the cafeteria of the energy station, impatiently drumming his fingers on the table in front of him. He wanted to be anywhere but just sitting and waiting to be called into the Driver’s Press Conference. The waiting gave his brain the opportunity to think about his situation and he was trying everything to not think about that. He couldn’t afford to let his mind fog with those thoughts of… He pushed himself forwards, moving from his comfortable seating position and ran his hands over his face. When did life suddenly become so slow? He felt like he finally understood why Fernando lived his life at one hundred mile per hour. 

No, he wasn’t going to think about Fernando. 

Why did this have to happen to him? He couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just have at least one thing good happening in his life. He had already admitted to himself that it was highly unlikely he would have another win before the end of his F1 career as Christian would fix it to let Sebastian win. But now all of this shit had aired with Fernando. Why couldn’t he have just remained friends with him? Why did he have to let himself hope? He could so easily blame Sebastian for this mess. After all, it was his fault. If he didn’t have it out for Fernando then Mark wouldn’t feel obliged to help the Spaniard and everything could have stayed the same. Mark unlocked his phone screen, hoping that he would have some sign Fernando understood him. But it was blank. He pressed his palms firmly over his eyes and willed himself to think about anything but the burning guilt, hurt and pain that had collaborated in his stomach. 

“Call him,” a voice said in front of him. He moved his hands to take in the sympathetic face of Sebastian who had sat himself down in front of him. Mark looked away from him, snatching up his water bottle and getting up. Sebastian caught his wrist. 

“Why don’t you fuck off?” Mark snapped, glaring down at Sebastian. Sebastian’s face remained unchanged; he expected this reaction from Mark. 

“Mark, I really am trying to help,” Sebastian said, letting go of Mark’s wrist. Mark fell back into his chair, a frown forming on his face. 

“I really don’t understand you,” Mark sighed. Sebastian just looked down at his own bottle of water, playing with the label, making sure that he didn’t look in Mark’s eye. He shrugged and his vagueness annoyed Mark. “One moment you hate me and the next you’re trying to be a supportive buddy? I don’t understand,” 

“I’ve never hated you…” Sebastian muttered. 

“You’ve made a pretty good display of it,” Mark seethed sarcastically. The frown on Sebastian’s face got deeper, but Mark’s last comment seemed to spark some anger in him. He got up.

“You know what, Mark, I don’t care,” Sebastian snapped, looking straight at the Australian. 

“Shocking,” Mark added in the same sarcastic tone. 

“Take my advise or don’t but you will never fix this if you don’t talk to him. You fucked up, whatever is was that you did, and so now it is your problem to fix. He won’t come running to you, you’ve got to go to him. But if you really don’t want me to care then I won’t. It doesn’t bother me either way.” Sebastian stormed off into his cool down room leaving Mark staring after him dumbfounded. 

No. He didn’t understand his younger teammate. And by the look of things, he never would. Mark retired to his own room, unlocking his phone. Sebastian had unfortunately made a point that Mark couldn’t ignore. He found Fernando’s name.

\- - -

Dasha was waiting for Fernando to come out of a press meeting. They would have a little while before the autograph session to get lunch and she was trying to figure out a way to ask him, without prying, what was the matter with him. He had been quieter than normal throughout her stay in Spain and when they had met up in India, he seemed to be completely within himself. She couldn’t believe this was all to do with Mark’s sudden, unexplained departure. There had to be more to it.

As if on cue, Fernando’s phone, which Dasha had taken for him before he went into the Press Conference, began to ring. It was on silent, so the sudden vibration in her hand startled her slightly. Looking down at the caller ID she saw Mark’s name. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, falling into a dilemma. She could either answer, which would maybe help Fernando if he knew why Mark left so suddenly, or leave it to ring to the answer machine and imply to Mark Fernando was ignoring him. She released her lip and slid the answer button, bringing the phone to her ear. 

“Fernando?” Mark’s voice said after a couple of moments of silence. Dasha sighed, not really knowing what she was doing. 

“No, Mark, it’s Dasha,” She said lightly. She could sense Mark’s disappointment on the other end of the line. 

“Oh… Can you put him on?” Mark seemed to be trying to formulate some words unsuccessfully, not really saying what he wanted to. 

“I can’t sorry, he-”

“-No, it’s fine, I understand,” The regret in his voice was killing her. 

“No, Mark, he’s in a Conference at the moment. I can’t put him on because he’s not here,” She said. 

“Oh,” his voice sounded a little cheerier, but it was hard to tell through his desolate tone. There was a short silence.

“I’m not sure…” Dasha bit her lip again. Not really knowing what she was trying to say she prevented herself from talking. 

“Please, Dasha. It’s important that I explain to him,” Mark’s voice was pleading and it was breaking Dasha’s heart. Why did this have to keep happening between the two of them? She couldn’t stand them fighting when they were obviously so close and it was more painful for them both when they weren’t talking. 

“I’ll see wha-” Dasha stopped talking as she saw the door beside her begin to open. She hid the phone – still connected to Mark – behind her back as Fernando emerged, looking tired. His face smoothed out into a small smile when he saw her. She echoed his facial expression. Fernando wrapped his arms around Dasha’s waist and planted a small kiss on her lips. 

“Come on, let’s get some food; I'm starving,” Fernando said, moving to usher her forwards, going to link his hand with hers. When she didn’t move he looked at her, slight confusion on his face. “Dash?”

“I think you should talk to Mark,” she blurted out, not looking into Fernando’s face. He fell silent, which worried her. After a short pause, she looked up at him, seeing the frown that had become a regular aspect of Fernando’s face recently had broke through again. Could Mark really be the reason behind Fernando’s strange behaviour? No. She was being stupid. There was no logical explanation. “Fernan-?” 

“Why?” His voice was weak and he cleared his throat. “Why?” He looked down at her and she felt intimidated by his stare. She looked at her feet. 

“You need to sort-”

“God, Dash!” Fernando snapped in an angry outburst, releasing Dasha from his hold. He turned away from her.

“Please, Fernando,” The plea in her voice made him turn around. She held out his phone to him, showing him the connected call to Mark.

“You called him?” Fernando spat, glaring at the phone. His voice became quieter as if he thought if he whispered Mark wouldn’t hear him. 

“No, he called you, he just wants to explain!”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Fernando converted his glare from the phone to Dasha and turned away, disappearing down the paddock. Dasha felt the tears in her eyes and brought the phone quickly back to her ear. 

“Mark, I’m sorry, I will get him to talk to you but I have to go,” she said in a shaky voice. 

“It’s O-“ But Mark stopped talking as the line had gone dead. Great. Now not only had he fucked up things with Fernando, but he was now fucking things up between the Spaniard and Dasha. He threw his phone onto the bed and paced angrily around the small room, finally falling onto the sofa in defeat. How could he have messed things up so badly?

\- - - - -

\- Adrean Tackle from Business F1: Mark, after the sudden switch in strategy at the end of the last race, have you gone over the data and seen this was the right decision or are you worried that your team will do it again? - 

Look, I haven’t really gone over the data at all. I still stand by my surprise that I had at the end of the last race, but I’ve got to believe the team knows what they are doing and use the information I give them to make these decisions. What I said at the end of the last race is still pretty accurate. 

\- Chive Nebula from The F1 Universe: We know you’ve had your differences with Sebastian, Mark, but could you shed some light on him as a teammate and driver, seeing he is soon to be a four time World Champion - 

Yeah, I mean, he’s had an incredible run. Much down to the dominance of the car but there have been some races where it has not been dominant and he has still managed to get himself on the top step. He’s been very strong on the Pirelli tyres so I suppose that will have helped, but no one can dispute the luck he has had in the last four years. There have been chances where some of the other drivers have had a chance, namely 2010 and 2012 and maybe for the fans it has been a bit of a no-event year this year as it was in 2011 when he dominated then, but yeah, he has a knack for getting everything he can out of the package. 

\- And when you say ‘other drivers’ you are obviously referring to Fernando Alonso and yourself. How do you feel, seeing Fernando is your friend, how much he is struggling with his Ferrari at the moment? - 

It’s a shame because he is a very talented driver and I'm sure the fans really want to see him able to push to the maximum and take the fight for the championship. But hopefully, with the big rule change next year, this will reel in everyone closer and make it much more closer and competitive next year. 

\- - - - -

Mark could see Fernando at the other end of the line they were all sitting in. He didn’t want to be here, but he was for his fans. They had come to see him and he couldn’t show them how dejected he felt, how much he wanted to be anywhere but here, preparing to race. He had Kimi on his left and Jenson on his right, both of whom seemed completely emerged in their own fans and what they were doing. He smiled as a small boy and his father walked away, leaving him alone for a few minutes. Mark leant back in his chair, releasing his Sharpie so it dropped onto the table and stretched his arms above his head. He took the opportunity to glance over at Fernando, who was smiling and posing for a photo, his eyes hidden by those wretched sunglasses. 

“You’re very obvious.” A voice came from Mark’s left and his head snapped to Kimi. He wasn’t quite sure if the Fin had spoke, but when he finished signing an autograph, he turned to face him. Mark was confused by Kimi’s comment but also annoyed as he, alike Fernando, was hiding his eyes behind a pair of Oakley sunglasses. 

“I’m sorry?” Mark asked, sitting forwards and giving Kimi his full attention. 

“With Fernando.” Kimi stated, keeping his face and voice emotionless. It was odd having this conversation with Kimi; Mark couldn’t work out if Kimi really cared or if he was just making an observation. 

“What do you mean?” Mark was playing ignorant. Kimi smirked a little, giving away nothing. 

“You know what I mean.” Kimi said, turning back around to sign another autograph. Mark just watched him, waiting for him to finish. Once he had, he turned back to Mark, expecting – as he did - to still have the Australian’s attention. 

“Let me amend my question: What’s you’re point?” Mark said. Kimi shrugged, turning back to his pile of photos and straightening them. Mark breathed out in an annoyed manner. As he turned away from Kimi, he saw more fans coming his way and fixed on a happy expression.

“Are you alright?” Fernando turned away from the spot in the distance he had focused on to look to his right and see Lewis looking at him with a concerned expression. He replaced his vacant stare with a soft smile; all too aware that Sebastian was sitting on his left. 

“I’m fine,” he said those words again. How many more times before someone called him on his bluff? Lewis moved closer to him, lowering his voice. 

“You sure? You really don’t look it,” Lewis kept his eyes on Fernando’s and Fernando was glad Lewis couldn’t see the pain that was clear in his eyes. He had never really been on great terms with Lewis since Hungary in 2007, but as the years had gone on, they had learnt to be civil and became, what he wanted to brand as, friends. He fixed the false expression of happiness that he had worn throughout the autograph session back on his face. 

“No, honestly, I'm fine,” Lewis kept his eye on him throughout the rest of the session, but knew not to push it with him; Fernando was a very private person at the best of times but he never wanted to appear weak. Lewis briefly wondered if Fernando was worried that his thing with lifts would have affected any of the other driver’s opinions of him. He had an urge to let Fernando know that wasn’t the case, but noticing the Spaniard had drifted off into his thoughts with a frown falling onto his face again, he felt it would be better if he dropped it. 

“Kimi,” Mark muttered quietly as he leant behind the Fin to get more photographs. Kimi grunted in acknowledgement, telling Mark to continue. “What do you know?” Mark straightened up and locked eyes with the Fin. He was desperately trying to read something in his blank expression, but there was nothing. At least he could always get some kind of vibe from Fernando when he did this. 

“Not much.” Kimi muttered, holding Mark’s eye. He saw the pleading in them before the Australian opened his mouth. 

“Please, Kimi, you’ve got to… How obvious? So obvious that he knows something or is it just you? Have you told anyone else?”

“Obvious enough I know,” Mark snapped his head round to catch Jenson’s lips stop moving. He was looking down at his photo he was signing and Mark blushed. He waited for the fans to clear and then rounded on the Brit. 

“What?”

“When you sniff around him all the time, Mark, people start to assume-”

“-So, what,” He turn forwards to address both Kimi and Jenson. “You’re both basing all this on assumptions?”

“No.” they chorused together. 

“Then what?” Mark snapped with a low voice. 

Fernando’s head turned towards the end of the table; he could hear there was some kind of commotion down there. He saw Mark fuming between a placid looking Jenson and Kimi. Any other circumstance and he probably would have laughed. But instead, this just made him frown deeper. What could possibly happening to make Mark so annoyed? He wanted to ask. To get up from here and just get the three of them to explain. But he couldn’t… He wasn’t even speaking to Mark at the moment. Thoughts about him were confusing enough as it was without adding having to over analyse everything he said. The most annoying part of this whole charade was that Fernando couldn’t find a logical reason as to why Mark was infiltrating his every thought. It was as if-

“Alonso?” His head turned back to the small girl in front of him and he pushed all thoughts of Mark from his head, smiling. 

“Hello,” he said, picking up his pen. “Do you want me to sign something?” The girl held out a cap and Fernando took it from her, turning it so the brim was in his hand. 

“Are you going to win this weekend?” She asked in a small voice. He smirked a little as he signed. 

“I will try my best,” He smiled up at her. 

“I hope you do… Can you make Mark Webber stay?” Her question caught him off guard and he frowned slightly. 

“What do you mean?” He felt himself lean in slightly closer to the girl. 

“You and him are good friends and you seem sad. So I thought you were sad because he was leaving and then I thought maybe if you could convince him to stay you would be happy and then you could win again,” He considered her proposition for a moment. Could it be that he was sad about Mark leaving and that was why he was thinking about him so much? It was a logical explanation. It didn’t feel quite right, but it was logical. 

“I think he wants to drive Porches next year,” he said with a genuine sad hint in his voice. 

“Well, maybe if you tell him how sad you will be without him?” Fernando smiled sadly at the girl. So innocent, young and sweet… she didn’t know the full story. And how could she understand? No, too young to know the real reasons. He humoured her. 

“Maybe that might change his mind,” But as he said it, he felt that he and the girl were talking about two entirely different things. The girl smiled hopefully at him and he smiled back. He gave her back her cap.

“Do you mind if I have a photo?” 

“Of course not,” She paused for a moment, as if fighting with a thought. But she gave in. 

“Can we ask Mark Webber if he will be in my photo?” Fernando stopped; the glow of hope in her eyes was too strong. He looked over to Mark who was avidly listening to Jenson. He wasn’t with anyone at the moment, would he come for a photo?

“You’ll have to ask if he can come, but if he can then sure,” Fernando smiled. The girl rushed down the table and Fernando watched as Jenson saw her coming and abruptly stopped talking. Mark looked down at the girl forcing himself to not look annoyed. His expression softened as she spoke and then he looked over at Fernando. 

Fernando looked down at the table, blushing slightly. Why had he agreed to this? He looked forward, smiling at the girl’s dad who was holding a camera, and saw Mark nod in his peripheral vision. He breathed deeply seeing him get up and followed suit, taking off his sunglasses and moving in front of the table. He crouched so he was at the same level as the girl and she smiled at him, with Mark following her just behind. He too crouched down and the three of them looked over at her Dad. He signalled for them to get closer and that was when Fernando felt it. Just as Mark’s hand briefly touched his shoulder. A sudden heat. He couldn’t explain it. As quickly as it had come about, it disappeared. The flash of the camera captured the three of them smiling, as if nothing was wrong between them. The girl thanked them both as she headed back to her Dad. Fernando stood first and Mark momentarily looked up at him.

“Fernando,” he said, gaining his full height, but it was too late. Fernando’s glasses were back on and he had turned his back, shutting the Australian out once again. 

\- - - - -

Dasha had gone back to the hotel and he didn’t blame her; there was nothing for her to be doing around the paddock today and he wasn’t exactly the cheeriest person to be around. They had sorted out their dispute from earlier, but Dasha was still insistent that the pair talked. He didn’t want to talk to Mark. He didn’t want to try and understand. He didn’t want Mark to confirm he was confused too. Fernando knew something wasn’t right with himself because he couldn’t stop thinking about Mark. Whatever he was trying to think about always reverted back to the Australian. It was infuriating, but getting easier to understand now he believed it was because he would miss him next year. But would he miss him so much that he couldn’t stop thinking about him? 

He tried to push the thought from his head. 

Fernando kicked the loose gravel as he walked, keeping his head down. It was times like this he wished he had a pair of big headphones like Sebastian so that if anyone did come up to him, they would know to leave him alone. He was heading to the Ferrari motor home, having just finished the autograph session, not wanting to be stopped or talked to by anyone. He knew he was hoping for a lot and had very little confidence that it would happen. 

“Fernando,” He knew it was Mark without having to turn around. He kept walking. “Fernando,” Mark fell into step beside him, but he still didn’t look up from his feet. “Oi!” The Australian blocked his path by standing in front of him. Fernando shuffled awkwardly on his feet, nearly falling into Mark, before stopping, still not looking up. “Talk to me!”

“I thought I made it clear I didn’t want to do that,” Fernando frowned at the floor, more contradicting feelings and thoughts swamping his mind. 

“Tough shit, you’re going to have to,” He looked up to see Mark standing in front of him with a stubborn look on his face with his arms folded. Fernando’s frustration at his conflicting emotions broke through to the surface. 

“What do you want?” He snapped, letting his rage flow at Mark.

“For you to fucking listen!” Mark was reverberating Fernando’s rage.

“I don’t want to hear it! If you want to just fucking skip out then fine but don’t expect me to hang around and wait for you to pick up the pieces!” 

“Pieces?” Mark was shocked and Fernando knew he had given too much. 

“No, I just… it’s when… I don’t need… Oh, just fuck off, Mark!” He shoved past him, but it didn’t take long for the Australian to stop him again and turn him around to face him. He didn’t look at him this time, just glared at Mark’s grip on his wrist. 

“Fernando-”

“Fuck off! I don’t want to- I can’t- Just leave me ALONE!” Fernando pulled free of his grip, but he didn’t move. He just stood, rubbing his wrist, breathing heavily and glaring at Mark. Why he couldn’t turn away and leave had him thunderstruck. He wanted to leave, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay and yell at Mark. 

Right?

At that moment, Jenson appeared from around the corner. He clocked the two men and allowed himself to smirk ever so slightly. Fernando didn’t see his expression change, but Mark did and he feared what was coming next. Jenson wouldn’t tell Fernando what he had told him at the autograph session, right? No, he wouldn’t… He wasn’t Seb.

“Alright,” Jenson said as he walked over to them, keeping his eyes on Mark. 

“Jenson,” Fernando said, not looking at the newest member to the conversation. 

“What are you doing here?” Mark tried to keep his voice even, but he knew Jenson would see through it. He really was quite obvious. 

“Just heading back,” Jenson indicated to the McLaren motor home. 

“As was I,” Fernando said, pointedly to Mark. Mark let his head drop slightly, showing his defeat. Fernando nodded to Jenson as he turned and left, disappearing shortly after into the Ferrari motor home. Jenson turned his attention back to Mark.

“I know,” Mark sighed, rubbing his hands over his face and into his hair.

“You’ve got to do something about it, mate. You’re throwing daggers at each other,”

“I’m not throwing anything!” 

“Well then you need to tell him something, it’s not fair otherwise,”

“I know…” Mark whined. He really didn’t want to think about this right now, 

“I would say give him time, but I think you’ve given him too much,” Jenson mused, making confusion spread over Mark’s face. 

“What?”

“You’ve waited too long and now you’ve confused him. He probably doesn’t understand why you haven’t already tried to talk to him,”

“So I should follow him and demand him to talk? Just tried that, mate, didn’t get me very far,” 

“Well, no, you’ve got to let him come to you now,”

“You’re not making any sense,” 

“I’m not trying to…” Jenson paused and took in Mark’s situation. “You really have fucked this up, haven’t you?”

“Those are just the supportive words I wanted to hear,” Mark said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 

“You’re just going to have to see how this fans out,” Jenson said in a stern tone, letting Mark know not to push it. 

“I can’t wait… we can’t end the season like this,” Dread was filling Mark’s stomach; he couldn’t loose Fernando.

“He won’t drag it out that long,” Jenson placed a supportive hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Trust me,” 

Mark was more relieved that he could talk to someone other than Sebastian about this Fernando stuff. He was happy that it was out in the air, but it also made him nervous; who else had noticed? There were twenty-one other drivers on the grid and at least three of them knew. So how many more had worked it out from his apparently so obvious actions? If Jenson was right and he was seen in every spare moment in Fernando’s company or hanging around outside the Ferrari garage/motor home then why didn’t everyone know? Or maybe they did…

“Am I really that obvious?” Mark asked, desperation in his voice. Jenson shrugged, letting his arm fall to his side. 

“Maybe not. I might have just noticed because I know you quite well. As for Kimi… he is basically another breed, only he can tell you how he worked it out. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about,” Jenson indicated to the Ferrari motor home, just as he had to his own earlier, and Mark knew he had understood his real question. 

“Thanks,” Mark smiled up at Jenson. But the look Jenson returned made him uncomfortable. Pained. It was as if Jenson felt bad for Mark having to be around Fernando a lot and not be able to say any thing. It was as if he understood Mark completely. It was as if he knew everything…. Mark made his excuses to leave and turned away from that expression, wanting to blot it from his memory. 

\- - - - -

The events of the day had passed pretty fast after his slow start. Lying on his hotel bed, Mark tried to decipher something coherent from the blur his brain presented him when he tried to re-live just one moment. It had been hectic; in between trying to show he was prepared to race and trying to sort out his shit with Fernando, he hadn’t really stopped. It was only at this moment of stillness he found himself in now that he truly took a breath. He couldn’t understand why Fernando enjoyed living his life at the speed of light; he was missing all those treasured moments of stillness and calm. Those moments that let you reflect on who you are and what you have accomplished. Though Mark didn’t enjoy dwelling on them for long either, he at least appreciated the moments of quiet. 

Until fairly recently. 

Now all these moments brought were Fernando. Things he had said, the way his foreign tongue would roll around words to manipulate them into becoming so much more than they truly were. And the meaning behind what he was saying. Did it have a double meaning? If so, what was it? How did he manage to hide what he was really feeling so well? The shape of his face, his eyes, his lips… How everything about him just seemed to work in such a beautiful way that the mere though of corrupting those perfect features with pain was horrifying… not to mention bring emotional pain to him…

And that was what Mark felt like he was doing. All this time, thinking that his deceit was for the best and he was just being selfish. He was holding on to Fernando in a way that could only emotional damage him. He felt heartbroken. He didn’t deserve him, but he couldn’t let him go. It was too painful, too much to leave him out of his life. The mere thought of it made him feel faint. The world could not continue without Fernando.  His world could not continue without Fernando. Fernando was the sun, and he was locked in orbit around him. To remove him would mean the end of it all. And he just couldn’t.

So that was where he was: stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t let Fernando go; yet he had to. He wanted to be selfish and right at the same time, but the two contradicted each other and couldn’t exist mutually. He was stuck on the wrong, selfish path because to be on any other would consist of him failing to be. A life without Fernando was a pointless life, and he was moving to the right, pointless path in just under two months. That realisation had him in a panicked state. He was taking a step in the right direction, but it was against himself. He pulled his legs into himself and rocked gently, trying to not think about what the future would bring. A future where Fernando did not feature. He shut his eyes, forcing the thought away. 

The knock on the door forced his eyes open. He looked over at the clock on his bedside table: 11:14pm. Who the hell could want him at this time? He remained in his position on the bed, hoping that who ever it was would assume he was asleep and go away. They didn’t. Once again they knocked, but when Mark still didn’t answer the door, the knock became continuous. 

Mark groaned angrily as he pushed himself off the bed, not caring what state he was in. He didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone or explain his actions. He just wanted to lie on his bed and try to sleep. He bet that it was Jenson coming to give him some more useless advise about Fernando. He didn’t want to hear it. If it was him, he would just ask him to leave and if he didn’t slam the door in his face. Maybe it was Christian wanting to talk about some tactics or set-up for practice tomorrow. No. That could wait until the morning. So maybe it was Seb, coming to entice him and give him more ‘stay away from Fernando’ threats. He defiantly would slam the door in his face if it was him. He didn’t, however, expect it to be who it was. 

Fernando.

Mark just held the door handle, looking out at the figure of the man he couldn’t get out of his head. Fernando was scratching the back of his neck, appearing to not be entirely sure himself as to why he was at Mark’s door. That frown was still etched on his beautiful features and Mark wanted to tear it off. He waited for Fernando to speak. 

“I… I’ve been standing out here for twenty minutes…” he muttered. Mark kept his tone and face emotionless. 

“You should have knocked then; I'm not psychic,” 

“I wasn’t sure… I…” Fernando looked up at Mark and Mark took in his appearance. Fernando’s hair was a wild mess and he noticed he was wearing nothing but purple/blue pyjama bottoms…. Wait. Those were Mark’s pyjama bottoms… From Korea. He looked back up to Fernando’s face, from his bare feet, but Fernando wasn’t looking at him. Still just scratching the back of his neck. 

“Why are you here?” Mark asked, unexplainable annoyance clear in his voice. Fernando abruptly pushed himself past Mark and walked into the room. “Come in then, why don’t you,” Mark muttered sarcastically under his breath as he shut the door. He turned to face Fernando who was now framed by the window, staring intently at the floor with the frown still clearly on his face. His silence was starting to piss Mark off and this fact was not vacant from his voice. 

“Why. Are. You. Here?” Mark glared at the Spaniard, but still he didn’t look up. 

“You have to let me do this,” Confusion bubbled through Mark and he was getting more and more annoyed. 

“What are you-?”

“-You can’t interfere or say anything or… You just need to let me get this out of my head… It can’t be… It doesn’t make any sense…” his voice faded back into his thoughts as his frown got stronger. Mark thought his features would never be able to break out of it. Though his vagueness was not helping Mark’s annoyance. 

“Fernando, what the fuck are you-”

“-Just shut up.” Fernando held up his hand and finally made eye contact with Mark. The Australian desperately tried to read something – anything – from his eyes, but there was nothing. He was, again, forcing Mark away, not telling him something else. 

“Could you just-!”

“Shut up!” Fernando showed anger in his facial expression and he took a step towards Mark in his rage. He stopped himself. “You need to… Just… Stay quiet,” Mark, still confused, obliged and didn’t speak. Fernando just looked over at him, indecision still clear in his expression. He tenderly took another step closer to Mark still surveying the gap between them. Mark so badly wanted to ask what the hell he was doing, but he didn’t. He breath was caught in his throat. 

In a mere few moments, Fernando had closed the gap between them and was extremely close. Mark could feel his warm breath hitting his face and fought his urge to eliminate all space between them. Fernando’s eyes were focused on his lips, which made him feel self-conscious. In a moment of laps, Mark let his tongue drag over his lips slightly to moisten them.

And that was when it happened. 

Without any kind of warning, Fernando pressed his lips gently onto Mark’s, closing his eyes. Mark let his own eyes drop closed. At first, that was all it was, just momentary pressure from Fernando. But Mark didn’t open his eyes. His mouth dropped open slightly and his breathing became slightly ragged as Fernando broke away. Fernando kept his own eyes closed, a frown of confusion on his own face. The two men just stood for a second, neither knowing what the other one wanted to do next. But when Fernando closed the gap the next time, Mark was ready. 

Fernando’s soft, gentle lips pressed, again, experimentally onto Mark’s, but as he went to break the connection this time, Mark kissed back. A small echo of Fernando’s words about not interfering bounced around Mark’s head, but he ignored it, pushing Fernando back slightly at the force of his kiss. Everything. Everything he had wanted for too long he put into his kiss. Nothing more than just pressure between their two lips was happening. It was just like a long peck, as if they have both awkwardly fallen into each other. Mark could feel Fernando’s tension and bravely wrapped an arm around him, touching the small of his back, bringing him closer. 

Fernando felt something change inside him when Mark licked his bottom lip. The frown washed from his face as he parted his lips slightly, allowing Mark entrance. And then their kiss changed. Fernando’s hands slid from their awkward position by his side into Mark’s hair. His fingers caught in the small curls and he pulled the Australian closer, letting his tongue roam around inside his mouth. Mark put his other hand on the back of Fernando’s neck, holding him. He relented a little, satisfying to sucking gentle on Fernando’s bottom lip, which made Fernando’s knees give slightly falling into Mark’s hold. Mark slid his free hand from Fernando’s neck and down onto his bare chest, feeling his heart pulse beneath his skin. 

Fernando took Mark’s small slip of attention to push his own tongue into his mouth. He was greeted by surge of passion as Mark straightened him up and ran both of his hands down his sides. A shiver ran down Fernando’s spine, as he tasted Mark, all thoughts vanished from his mind. Right now it was just the two of then, locked in this embrace. There was a small fight for power as Mark rested his hands on Fernando’s hips, tongues swirled and fought the other to relent and let the other claim full entrance. Fernando let himself sink into Mark, abandoning the fight, just wanting to  feel Mark, to  understand him. It was the closest he had felt to the Australian in a long time and everything felt like it was beginning to click into place. Caught in the moment, Mark pushed his hands into Fernando’s hair, making it more of a mess that it already was, and rolled his hips into the Spaniard.

As quickly as it had started, Fernando was gone. Temporarily, Mark was confused to find himself standing alone in the middle of the room but he looked over to see Fernando, again, leaning against the window sill, pressing his arms against the wall and looking down. Mark took a few tentative steps towards him. 

“Fernan-”

“No.” the abruptness of Fernando’s word stopped Mark in his tracks. He couldn’t understand. His brain was still slightly fogged from what had just happened… But Fernando was saying no. He had the impulse to scream at Fernando to look at him. This constant shutting off was killing him. He wanted to see those chocolate pools that let him feel he understood this man. He wanted to drown in them. 

“No?” Mark’s voice broke on the small word. He saw a flicker of some kind of emotion in Fernando, which made him feel like at least he was, at last, getting  something from him. 

“I… I can’t… I don’t understand!” Fernando threw his hands over his face and curved over, hiding himself from Mark. And Mark didn’t care if Fernando threw him off; he moved over to the now crying Spaniard and caught him in his arms. Fernando didn’t uncurl, but just stayed there in his arms. Mark led him over to the bed and sat on the edge with him, rubbing small circles into his back. 

“It’s alright,” Mark cooed. “I don’t understand either,”

“You do.” Fernando said in ragged breath. “You know what you want here. But I can’t. Mark I can’t return that… This is shit! I just want to get out of my head! Why can’t it just be simple?” Mark was restraining Fernando’s anger, which in turn, transformed into more sobs. He tried to pull Fernando as close to him as he could. 

“I don’t, mate, I really haven’t got a clue. I suppose I’ve got some things worked out but nothing substantial,”

“How do you… How do you not think about it?” Fernando looked up into Mark’s face and his expression melted Mark’s heart. That pain. The pain he so wanted to avoid, and there it was – etched all over Fernando’s face. Mark tried a small smile. 

“Live my life at one hundred miles per hour,” he joked. Fernando smiled slightly, running his hand across his cheek messily to wipe away the tears. 

“Tried that,” he joked, resting his head on Mark’s shoulder. Mark moved his hand from Fernando’s back and wrapped it around his shoulder. Silence fell between the two of them and Mark was glad it wasn’t awkward. He was content with Fernando in his arms, and he knew this was exactly what he wanted. Fernando was taunting him with hope that may be false, but Mark didn’t care. Right now he was just living in this moment with Fernando, never wanting it to end. He placed his lips gently on Fernando’s temple.

“No, Mark,” Fernando pushed himself off Mark and made distance between them. The separation hurt Mark and he wanted him back in his embrace. 

“Fernando-”

“I can’t…” His palms were pressed firmly over his eyes again. Mark moved closer to him and tried to take his hands from his face.

“Stay with me,” Mark whispered as he uncovered Fernando’s face. For a whisper of a second, Mark really thought Fernando would stay. But, the hand colliding with his shoulder forcing him off balance and to sprawl across the bed, made him know that was false hope. He rolled onto his stomach as Fernando headed for the door and darted after him. “Fernando!” he reached for his wrist but Fernando moved away. As he reached the door, his hand fell onto the handle but he didn’t open it. Mark froze, wondering if Fernando was having second thoughts… Maybe he would stay… He turned to face Mark with that pained expression so clear on his face. Mark wanted to break it with his kisses, show Fernando that he didn’t have to worry about anything, show him he would look after him and protect him. But Fernando read this all too clearly in Mark’s eyes and it made him feel weak. He didn’t need protecting or looking after. He turned the handle. 

Mark tried to catch him again, but by time he reached the door, Fernando had disappeared through it. He let his fist thump into the door in anger and rested his forehead on the white wood, forcing away the tears of pain that were prickling in his eyes. From the other side, Fernando heard the thump and it hit him like a punch in the gut. Was he being stupid? He wanted to stay with Mark, right? But he couldn’t. This had been a stupid plan. If anything, it had just confused him more. That small thought of lust that he had somehow believed could be a possible explanation had been exploited on a huge manner.

At least he had a logical explanation as to why Mark was filling his thoughts.


	10. Overkill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can't get to sleep; I think about the implications Of diving in too deep And possibly the complications. Especially at night, I worry over situations I know I'll be alright: It's just overkill"  
> ~ Colin Hay ~
> 
> DISCLAIMER  
> This chapter is based on the lyrics of the song "Overkill" by Colin Hay; the song fitted the scenario too well to not adapt.  
> I do not own the song.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Fernando opened his hotel room door he knew one thing: he didn’t want to stay here with Dasha. He quietly rushed around the room, pulling on a black hoodie and his trainers whilst throwing some jeans, his Ferrari shirt and some other overnight things into his track bag. Just before he left, he checked the compartment of his bag where he had put the key Andrea had given him so long ago. It was still there. He sighed in relief and headed out the door. 

\- - - - -

He couldn’t sleep. Lying in the bed of his cool down room in the Ferrari motor home, he couldn’t force away the implications that were airing in his head about what had just happened with Mark. He still couldn’t place what had possessed him to go to the Australian’s room and dive in in such a brash way like that. One thing he was certain of was that this was defiantly not going to simplify their friendship. Both of them had reacted in a way that meant there was no going back to normality. Right now, as life was now, was the normal. And he was worried their recent complication had fucked up things truly with Mark. 

Mark knew what he wanted, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Fernando knew; Mark had given away too much in their kiss. But this fact worried Fernando because he wasn’t sure what he had revealed. If Mark had been so open, was it correct to assume that he most probably was too? But Fernando couldn’t even understand what he wanted himself. He knew he didn’t want to loose Mark, so he knew he had to fix this mess… Somehow. These thoughts always seemed to seek him out at night, making it near on impossible to sleep. It was these exact thoughts that had lead to him going down to Mark’s room. Fernando shook his head, trying to clear it. It would probably be alright; Mark didn’t want to loose him either and Fernando thought he had been clear on what he wanted – even if he wasn’t sure himself. He was probably just imagining the worst case in scenario.

He buried his head under the thin sheet and curled into a ball, trying to salvage one thought that didn’t involve Mark from his head. But his position didn’t last long. The cold, unusual sheet made him feel more alone than ever and he felt trapped with no escape. He threw the sheet off him and sat up, exasperating. He couldn’t clear his head. Pushing himself onto the floor, he pulled on his hoodie and toed his shoes on his feet, heading to have a midnight walk of the track. He wasn’t really thinking again, he was just trying to get out of his own head. Being inside the paddock, it was easy to get to the pit straight and walk down it onto the track. His head filling with a need of desperation to obtain his usual adrenaline he got when he was in his car. He could always leave his mundane problems in the garage when he was driving. 

He let his mind wander to viewing the track as if he really was driving. First corner one. Slowly build speed through two. Brake for three. Foot down for the long straight. Brake for four. Quickly back on the throttle for the short straight to five. Then brake again. Slow for five. Keep enough speed to take six and seven quick. Short straight to gain some speed. Straighten eight and nine to make it only one turn. Gently brake to take ten and eleven. Pick up some more speed through twelve. Brake for thirteen. Pick up a bit of speed to get to fourteen. Then gain speed. Brake gently for fifteen. Repeat for the straight and sixteen. Foot down for the start/finish straight. 

He was amused by the pretty lights that fell onto the track. Some was artificial, but some from the moon shinning down from a nearly cloudless sky. It was eerily quiet being on track this late at night, and he soon found himself confused as to which corner he was on due to the little variation in the limited light. He sighed in relief; the focus of the track was nullifying the overkill fighting to make itself present in his head. He sat on a barrier at what he believed was turn seven and just let the cool breeze wrap around him, biting deep into his hoodie and attacking his bare flesh beneath. It was soothing to just let nature surround him and focus on listening to the air rather than thinking about anything. 

But eventually, in his peaceful state, his thoughts caught up to him and broke down his calmness. Day after day the same confusing, contradicting thoughts invaded his mind. At night it was worse; in the solitude of trying to sleep he formulated the worst-case scenarios and panic, his heart rate racing in a tell-tale way. He hated the fact that now nothing could be simple. Not his relationship with Mark or even his relationship with Dasha. If he had a Championship to focus on he knew this wouldn’t even be bothering him. But he didn’t; Sebastian had made damn sure of that. He wondered, vaguely, if this was part of his plan to bring him down. But he shook the thought from his head easily; he couldn’t know any of this was happening, there was no possible way. He pushed himself off the barrier and walked back the way he came towards the pits. As he strode along, his mind presented him with visions of Dasha and Mark who swam uncomfortably in his head. They appeared and faded like ghosts, not hanging around long enough to explain, but just long enough to confirm Fernando’s confusion. 

He returned to the motor home and climbed back into bed, clinging closely to himself. He closed his eyes and thought about racing, quickly drifting into a confusing dream about racing, Mark and Dasha…


	11. India

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Unless India stands up to the world, no one will respect us. In this world, fear has no place. Only strength respects strength."  
> ~Abdul Kalam~

Fernando sat in the back of his garage. The track was dirty and so they were not running yet. Half an hour he had just sat, which was a bad thing. His mind had wondered back to his encounter with Mark the previous night and his fingertips kept brushing lightly on his lips. What had he let happen? What had possessed him to go to Mark last night and do that? But the worst question that kept forcing itself to mind was: did he want to do it again? A part of him that was growing larger was screaming a resounding yes. 

And that was just confusing him more. 

“Fernando?” This sudden entrance of another voice into his head startled Fernando and he looked up to Felipe, seeing the curious concern etched all over his face. The Brazilian moved closer and placed his hand gently on Fernando’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Fernando nodded, giving a small smile. Those words just fell from his tongue now; as a natural response. He could see in Felipe’s eyes that he wasn’t convinced and was not surprised when the Brazilian continued to pester him. 

“You’re not… What are you thinking about?”

“Dasha,” Fernando said, thinking that this would be a reasonable explanation. Felipe’s eyes narrowed momentarily and Fernando tried to subtly swallow his guilt in lying to Felipe. 

“Why?” Felipe’s eyes slid from Fernando and Fernando turned, following his gaze, to see what he was looking at. He saw Dasha standing just outside the Ferrari garage talking to Sebastian and instantly felt hatred bubble in his stomach as Dasha slapped his shoulder and laughed at him. 

“Why not?” Fernando snarled, still looking over at the pair. Felipe looked down at Fernando, observing his change in tone, but just noticing where he was looking now explained it. 

“Odd that you were vacantly thinking about her when she is right here…” Felipe let his voice drift off in a knowing matter, letting the Spaniard know he knew he was lying. Fernando blushed slightly and looked down at his hands. He honestly hadn’t noticed Dasha had arrived at the circuit. He looked back up at Felipe, who was now leaning casually against the shelving beside him. 

“Hadn’t realised she was here; I came to the circuit early and alone,” Fernando said, honestly. Felipe seemed stumped by Fernando’s comment, and the Spaniard was a little smug that he had made Felipe doubt whether or not he was actually lying. He turned back to face Dasha and just watched her talk to Sebastian with a frown on his face. He couldn’t clear a coherent, simple feeling for his girlfriend anymore. If someone had have asked him yesterday, he would have said love. But not today. He didn’t know what he felt. All he knew was that he didn’t like her talking to Sebastian at all. But he had to let it happen; Sebastian had too much up his sleeve. He just watched her: the way she talked, stood, her hand gestures. It had been a long time since he had properly looked at Dasha, having been clouded with the prospect of loosing yet another Championship fight. But still no feelings of love or lust came over him, he just felt as if he was observing a friend. 

He looked away, rubbing a hand over his face and was grateful to see Felipe had moved back to his side of the garage, talking about something with Rob. He couldn’t just fall out of love with Dasha; he was just a little confused because of what happened last night. It was a one off; it wouldn’t happen again. He would stay with Dasha because that was whom he loved. He looked back over at her. As he did, he noticed the third person that had joined the conversation. Sebastian had disappeared back into the Red Bull garage and someone else had stopped Dasha, who had been heading into the Ferrari garage. 

Mark. 

Fernando felt panic rise in his throat as he saw the pleading look in Mark’s eyes. He had told Dasha in the phone call they had had that morning that he and Mark had talked and sorted things out. Mainly to stop her pestering him about the Australian - every time she did those confusing thoughts about his best friend penetrated his head – but also because he had and they had sorted things out. Sort of.  
Dasha turned to face him and caught his eye. Fernando blushed and got up, starting to get ready to get in his car, turning his back on them. As he turned around, looking to the pit wall for Andrea, he saw Dasha nod to Mark and start to head towards him. He shifted his eyes more frantically as he held his helmet and was relieved to see his race engineer coming over towards him. He met him in the middle.

“How’s the track?” Fernando asked in a relieved tone. Andrea raised his eyebrow in confusion at Fernando’s persona.

“Good to go, just came to tell you to get in the car and I’ll explain what we’re running,” Fernando nodded and climbed into his Ferrari, pulling his helmet on as he did. Dasha just walked passed the car casually, taking a seat in his recently vacated chair. She would wait. Fernando pushed all of these thoughts from his mind as the mechanics secured his seat belt and he put on his gloves. Andrea gave him a brief of what programme they were going to run and then left heading for the pit wall. Fernando looked in his wing mirror and saw Dasha sitting with her hands under her legs looking over at the screen on the wall, sporting a red pair of headphones. He knew when he got out of his car she would pounce on him, asking him to explain. He pushed the thoughts away and focused on the track, pushing down his visor and driving out of the pits. 

\- - - 

“What happened?” Andrea’s voice was clear in his ears as the normal roar of the V8 engine had dropped its tone monumentally. This wasn’t good. It defiantly wasn’t useful. He pulled off the racing line and continued towards the pits in a very slow fashion. This wasn’t going to help him complete his programme. 

“I went to change to fourth and it dropped into neutral,” He said, furiously fiddling with his steering wheel trying to make sure the car didn’t stop. 

“Ok… Box, Box… bring it back it and we will have a look,” 

“It’s the gearbox, something has happened,” Fernando said, moving to the right so the Sauber could pass him. 

“Could be an electrical fault, bring it back. Can you get it back?”

“Yes, it’s slow, but yes,” 

“Alright, make sure you don’t block anyone – we can’t afford a penalty.” The small buzz that let him know the conversation had ended sounded as he came around the last few corners and limped his car back into the pits. More bad luck? Hadn’t he had enough already? 

After what seemed like an age of waiting for a verdict the decision was made and his session was over. The team would work on what they thought was an electrical problem and have it sorted for the second practice session. Without a second thought, Fernando told Andrea that he would be in the motor home so he could relay the message when he was needed for press talks and left. He unzipped his race suit half way and pulled his arms out of the sleeves, letting the material hang around his waist. Pulling on his cap and sunglasses, he strode with purpose towards the Ferrari Motor Home, hoping no one would stop him. He heard her stupid heels clicking on the concrete to catch up with his and sighed, physically feeling his posture deflate. 

“Why did you lie to me?” Dasha asked, falling into step beside him. He hated it when she wore heels; it made her so much taller than him and he hated looking up at her when she should be at his eye level. He didn’t turn to face her, just kept on walking. 

“I didn’t lie. It was the truth. We talked and sorted it out,” He said honestly, trying to keep defeat out of his voice. 

“Then why is he still asking me to get you to talk to him?” 

“Because then we didn’t sort it out,” He stated cryptically. She paused, looking over at Fernando with confusion spread across her face. They entered the Motor home. 

“You’re not making any sense,” she said as they ascended the stairs. 

“We have to sort something else out now and that is why he is asking again,” 

“Something else? So you made up and then fought again?” she asked. Her impatience with these spats was clear in her voice. They reached Fernando’s room. He stood outside with his hand on the handle, not letting them in. 

“Sort of… Not really…”

“It would help me understand if you told me what happened,” Dasha exasperated. Fernando felt panic beginning to rise in his again. He couldn’t tell her. 

“Nothing too bad, I’ll talk to him later,” He said, pushing the door open and walking in his room. Dasha followed, closing the door after herself. 

“Well, what happened? And if it’s nothing important then why did he seem so desperate to talk to you?” Fernando couldn’t think of a good enough reason, so he decided to go defensive, but his annoyance at the real confusion in his head aired. 

“Does it matter? I’ll sort it so you don’t have to keep going on!” He fell into the sofa and threw his hat and glasses into the space beside him, running his hand through his hair. Dasha still looked confused but Fernando was doing everything in his power not to look at her. 

“I’m not ‘going on’,”

“You are and it’s none of your business; it’s between Mark and I!”

“It becomes my business when I’m brought into it!” She began to reflect his anger. He welcomed it; wanting some real reason as to why he wasn’t feeling the same way about her. 

“I didn’t ask you to get involved!” He rose to his feet, finally looking at her through glaring eyes. 

“I didn’t ask to  be involved! Mark came to me, Fernando, because we are in a  relationship and I’m the closest person to you! Or had you forgotten that?” Her last comment startled Fernando and added more confusion to his already tangled brain. This just spurred his anger on. 

“What?”

“Where did you go last night?” 

“No where!”

“Yes you did! You disappeared around midnight and didn’t come back! Tell me where you went!” 

“Does it matter?”

“Were you with another woman?” Fernando froze. Hatred and anger burning through his system.

“You’ve already decided what you think so why would I bother answering. Would you even believe me if I said no? Who gave you that idea, Sebastian?” Fernando spat, retaining eye contact with Dasha. She shrunk a little into herself under his intense scowl.

“If it were the truth I would believe you! And no one put the idea in my head!”

“Dasha, two month ago I could have disappeared for and entire day and you wouldn’t jump to such rash assumptions! I would tell you where I had gone and you would accept it! Now you’re listening to some jerk-!”

“-Don’t bring Seb into this; he hasn’t done anything!” Fernando felt more anger flood into his system at the use of ‘Seb’. He didn’t like the pet name. It made his skin crawl. 

“Well he obviously has, Dash, because you won’t even let me try to explain before you start accusing me of cheating! I haven’t cheated Dasha and I never will!” A stone rock of guilt smashed into the floor of his stomach. Was kissing Mark cheating? He pushed the thought away but the rock remained firmly in place. 

“How can I believe that when you’re so closed off from me right now?” Dasha took a small step towards Fernando, but changed her mind and shuffled her feet instead. Fernando turned away from her, heading across the room to get some data Andrea had left him to look over from Japan. “Fernando, you haven’t looked at me like… And we haven’t had se-”

“So you’re saying you don’t trust me anymore?” Fernando seethed, not turning to look at her. He didn’t want to hear the end of her sentence. There was a long pause of silence where neither of the pair moved of spoke. Fernando turned around to glare at Dasha, who was staring at him with shinny eyes. 

“No… I just… I feel so far away from you and it seems like every time we talk it’s a fight,” Her words were just about audible and he could sense she was about to cry. He knew he should want to go over and be supportive but all he could think about was how much he didn’t want to have to deal with her pointless crying and have to coo sensitive, loving words to her.

“If you hadn’t noticed, I'm not in the best place in my life mentally right now, so excuse me if I haven’t got enough emotions spare to care for you as well,” he stated, not even caring for the ramifications. A silent tear rolled down her cheek and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Well I’m glad we cleared this up… you can use all of the emotions you were wasting on that for something else,”

“I’m not wasting emotions, Dasha, I care about you and I love you, but you have to understand how much loosing  constantly takes out of me. It’s all out of my hands and I can just see nothing good on the horizon. That’s all I'm trying to make clear. Nothing else,” His tone softened slightly as he spoke. He didn’t know what he was trying to achieve. Something else he didn’t understand. He turned away from her and fetched the data. 

“I know it’s hard for you-”

“-No. You don’t know because you don’t understand. Mark, yes. Mark can understand how I'm feeling right now,” Fernando was talking more to himself than Dasha now. “He’s been in this situation for three years straight with no relief. He can relate to how I'm feeling but you don’t have a clue. No relief from this feeling of defeat, of being second best when you know you’re better-”

“-But you’ll never be second best with me,” Having his face turned away from Dasha he openly rolled his eyes at her stupid comment. One he couldn’t even say he could believe was true anymore. 

“I know you’re just trying to help, and I appreciate it, but you’re just making me feel worse right now,” He stated, walking back over to the sofa with the data package in his hands, not looking up at Dasha. Sinking back into the sofa he started to look through it, feeling her eyes burning into him. He still didn’t look up. 

“I’ll see you later then… Maybe,” She said as she strode from the room. 

“Say hi to Sebastian for me,” Fernando added in a frustrated tone, not taking his eyes off the data. Dasha stopped and turned back to face Fernando.

“What?” She asked, confused. 

“I know that’s where you’re going. When he comes back from practice and he can talk to you, say hi to him from me,” Fernando watched her face over his shoulder. Her hurt but guilty expression made it all too clear he was right. She was going to Sebastian, again. Without another word, she turned from the room, ripping the door open and left. Maybe that was why he wasn’t feeling like he used to with Dasha; she was spending so much time with Sebastian. He thought that maybe he should be the one sending accusations around about being with other people. His reasons for not doing so were two fold: one; he trusted her that she really did still love him and wouldn’t do such a thing, and two; he really didn’t care if she did. 

\- - - - -

Qualy had been fantastic. Mark was starting fourth and all of the other cars around him were on the soft compound until you reached Fernando in eight. If this tactic worked and those six cars had to pit within the first five to ten laps, this could be that win he was looking for. It could even come down to a battle between Fernando and himself. That was, of course, if this strategy pulled off. If it didn’t he could find himself being over taken by cars going a lot quicker than him and have it all to fight for. It was a fifty-fifty chance. He had known he had needed to do something different from Sebastian or the chance of a win would have never been realistic. He walked over to the Sky reporter in the press pin and gave her a small smile. 

“So the team have gone for a split strategy today, how do you recon that will play out tomorrow? Because if Seb has to pit early you could be in a strong position for the win,”

“Yeah, it was worth trying something a little bit different. We didn’t think we would end on the second row – being on the slower tyre we expected to be around Fernando, who is also running a similar strategy. But in the end it turned out to be a pretty good session. I think we all did a pretty good job and didn’t leave too much out there. We’re starting in a pretty good position to-” Mark stopped mid sentence. He had seen Fernando in the reflection of a camera lens behind him. Those despicable sunglasses back on his face. He hadn’t seen Fernando since that night two nights ago and finally seeing the Spaniard made it all rush back to him. He had been so desperate to see him again and now, at the worst possible time, he could. But it was not good now; he wanted to talk to him, ask him to explain. 

“…Capitalise on…” Mark tried to regain his thought and sentence, but his eyes focused on Fernando’s lightly tanned skin and he wanted to rush from the interview and kiss him, irrelevant of how many cameras were watching. He forced his feet to be rooted to the spot. He couldn’t. He had to stay here. He tore his eyes away from the red reflection and back to the reporter. Where was he? “Err…” he shrugged, scanning his brain furiously back to his point. He felt the blood beginning to run to his cheeks. Why did this have to happen now? “A… A different approach if you, if you know what I mean… Err…because we know the option tyre is not, err, exactly, err, a great… great piece of work, but we’ll see how it goes.” He fought with the want to look down, embarrassed. The reporter, gratefully, helped him back onto the conversation. 

“Should be exciting, shouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, hopefully. I’ll have to put on that tyre at some point, so it may look exciting early on in the race,” The red reflection in the camera turned towards Mark and his eyes slid over to look again. Fernando wasn’t looking at him; he had just turned his body position slightly. Mark sighed and turned back to the reporter whose facial expression was growing more confused. He wanted this interview over. “But, yeah… I’ve got to put that tyre on at some point,” He’d already said that. He exasperated. “Yeah.” He knew this wouldn’t work any more, not with Fernando so close but at the same time so far away. Mark could already feel the confusing questions flooding into his head and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold a conversation with complete focus. The reporter seemed to pick up on that vibe. 

“Thanks, Mark,” She smiled, clicking off her microphone. He smiled back and moved off to the left where his PA was waiting for him. He kept the small smile on his face as he reached him.

“All done, you can go now,” He said, appearing much more interested in his phone than Mark. Mark didn’t say anything as he departed from the press pin and back towards the motor homes. He was glad his PA hadn’t come with him; he didn’t have to go straight back to Red Bull. That was good because that wasn’t where he was going…

He had been leaning against the wall of the Ferrari Motor Home for around five minutes when Fernando appeared. His PA was babbling on to him but he couldn’t look less interested. His eyes fell on the odd purple of Mark’s suit as soon as he rounded the corner. Mark wasn’t sure if Fernando was going to divert, but he didn’t. He just sighed and continued towards the Australian, already defeat in his posture. 

“…And then the rest of the day is yours. So if you go in the motor home, I’ve got to run and set up but I’ll be back to get you in about twenty minutes,” Fernando’s PA was saying as she passed by Mark, not even taking him in, and continued passed the Motor Home. Fernando just stopped in front of Mark, looking down and playing with the fastening of his race suit, which was hanging around his waist. 

“What was that all about?” Mark asked. 

“No idea,” Fernando muttered, not moving. Mark could tell instantly that something wasn’t right. And it had nothing to do with the race. 

“Dasha came to the energy station yesterday,” Mark stated, trying to work out the problem. Fernando remained emotionless. 

“Yes, to go and see Sebastian,” Mark was shocked slightly at Fernando’s casualness. 

“You knew?”

“Yes.”

“Did you try to stop her?”

“No. I told her to say hi.” Shock probably wasn’t the right word to explain how Mark was feeling. Disbelief on an extreme scale was perhaps more accurate. 

“Why?” this was not vacant from his voice. Fernando just shrugged, turning to head into the Motor Home. Mark grabbed his wrist and pulled him away, down between two Motor Homes and around the back where there was significantly less people around. He released Fernando’s wrist and looked at him. Nothing. No emotion, no fight, no drive. Fernando appeared dejected and Mark was determined to work out why. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Mark raised an eyebrow at Fernando and the Spaniard dropped his head again.

“Don’t talk shit, mate. Not with me.” 

“What makes you so special, Mark?” The abruptness of Fernando’s anger caught Mark off guard. A frown fixed onto his face. 

“Nothing, I’m not special. But you can’t think your usual charades are going to fool me; I know you too well,” Mark kept his voice calm, but that only seemed to annoy Fernando more. He glared at Mark, finally looking at him properly. First time since their kiss. But the emotion was a lot different now. 

“They are not charades. I am fine. I don’t need you telling me how I feel!”

“I’m not,”

“You are! You think you understand me but you don’t. You don’t get it and you never will!” Fernando pushed past Mark, but the Australian caught his arms as he made contact, preventing him from moving forwards. Fernando scowled over at him, struggling slightly to get free. 

“What’s wrong with you? What happened with Dasha?”

“Nothing! Fuck sake! You can’t understand so leave me alone!”

“Fernando, I’m not letting go until you explain – I’ve got nothing else to do so I can stand here all day,” Mark was struggling to remain calm. 

“Likewise.” Fernando spat in a stubborn voice, freezing in his struggles to get free. 

“You have a PR thing in twenty minutes,” Mark countered. 

“Then you will  have to let go of me.” Fernando’s tone remained unchanged. Brown eyes met hazel in a battle to be more stubborn. But Fernando had a point; Mark would have to let go. He just looked down at Fernando, trying to desperately read something through his sunglasses. The black lenses made this impossible, of course. Mark caught both of Fernando’s wrists in one hand and pulled them off, gently. Fernando didn’t object and Mark’s heart stung when he saw the redness around them. He had been crying. He looked at this vulnerable, hurt Fernando in his arms and wanted more than anything to protect him. To pull him close and tell him it was OK. But he knew he couldn’t be the one to do it. He finally understood what was wrong. What it was that had him worked up and caught in so many different emotions. It was Mark…

Fernando was confused about Mark. 

Mark let Fernando’s wrists go and stepped away from him. He was so angry with himself for letting this happen. He was the reason behind Fernando’s pain. He was the reason Fernando was constantly fighting with Dasha. He was the reason for Fernando’s tears. Mark held out Fernando’s sunglasses, not looking over at him. He stared intently at his feet, wanting to be left alone. But Fernando didn’t leave. Fernando just looked over at Mark, worried. 

“Mark-”

“-No. Don’t.” Mark input, slamming his eyes closed. He kept his arm outstretched holding onto Fernando’s sunglasses, wanting to just be left alone. He felt so low. His worst nightmare was true but it was his fault. He had created it. He had brought pain to Fernando. Fernando suddenly wrapped his arms around Mark’s waist tightly, burying his face into the Australian’s race suit. 

“Fernando, stop,”

“I can’t. I won’t. I can’t loose you. You’re already going at the end of the season. I won’t loose you. You can’t do this to me…. It’s not fair.”

“Fernando, please-”

“No, Mark. You please. Don’t do this,” Mark pushed himself out of Fernando’s grip and glared at him, thrusting his sunglasses back towards him. Fernando made to take a step towards him, but at the sight of Mark’s facial expression he didn’t. “Fine.” The gentle, soft tone of Fernando’s voice was vacant. He snatched the sunglasses from Mark and turned away, not looking back. Mark wanted to hit something. Anger was burning through him. But he couldn’t. The only thing around was the Ferrari Motor Home wall and he couldn’t hit that. He turned to walk towards the energy station but froze mid step instead. No. Not possible. He couldn’t be standing there. With a smug grin on his face. And his arms folded. With knowing eyes. But he was, and he and most probably seen more than could be explained any other way than the truth. 

Sebastian. 

\- - - - -

“Shit! I’ve got damage! Damage on my front wing. Do I need to repair?” Fernando called down his radio. Annoyance swelled inside him as he dropped back in the pack away from Mark and Kimi. He knew at least his left hand end panel was gone; it had flown across the front of his car. But he couldn’t see if there was any other damage. 

“Stay out. Stay out. We will see. End panel is gone. We will wait to see the effects. Stay out.” Andrea's voice rung in his ears. After two laps of staying out it was clear the damage was ruining his race. He had nearly taken Jenson off the track and was finding the unbalance hard to control. 

“Come on! What’s happening?” Infuriation was tearing through Fernando. Why weren’t they calling him in? He wondered if the problems with his radio were back and they couldn’t here him. “Are we boxing? I can’t keep racing like this!”

“OK, Fernando, Box this lap. Box. Box. We will change the wing and your tyres. Go for primes, still on scheme A,” Andrea said, Fernando could hear the exasperation there. 

“Scheme A is over, I won’t gain an advantage if I pit, change scheme,” He called back, but it was too late. He was already pulling into the pits and the new Medium tyres were out of their blankets. He counted the time of the stop as he always did. Seventeen. Normally it was around five. That was an extra twelve counts for his nose replacement. He tore the plastic cover off his helmet in frustration as he disappeared down the pit lane. That was it. The strategy was done. He had now got an extra pit stop and still not burnt the soft tyres. His race was over. He threw the car around the first lap out of the pits, going wide and throwing dust into the air. 

“Calm down. Calm down. Fifty-three laps to go. Don’t ruin your tyres,”

“The race is over. I’m twentieth; race is over.”

“Fifty-three laps, Fernando, we can still get some points,” Still angry, Fernando calmed his driving a little, making it less obviously erratic. That was when he felt it. The car still wasn’t right. He checked his steering wheel but nothing was showing to be wrong. The car did not feel right. 

“There is still a problem with the car. Still a problem.” Fernando jammed his finger on the radio button as the panic started to rise in him. 

“Stay calm, we will check it, car looks fine at the moment, stay calm.” There was a period of silence on the radio where Fernando could only here the V8 behind him. He was just waiting, with baited breath, for it to suddenly silence. For the gears to drop into neutral. There was something wrong. Could this race get any worse? “OK, Fernando, the wheel bar is slightly bent but that will not effect the race. The situation is fine currently but we will keep a check on it,” Fernando sighed in liberation and pushed on, trying to rescue something from this horrific race. 

\- - - 

“Whose Red Bull is parked?” Fernando asked, catching sight of the stationary purple car on the edge of the track. He hoped it was Sebastian’s. Even though the German would still win the Championship it would bring a little solace to his mind that he hadn’t won the race. 

“Webber. He had a problem and was told to stop,” Andrea said. Fernando didn’t know what to say. Mark was having more bad luck? Unbelievable. “Keep pushing. Keep pushing. You are closing in on the car in front,” Andrea’s words brought Fernando back to the race and he suddenly felt as if he was racing for more than just himself. 

\- - -

\- Mark, what happened? - 

I had a problem with the gearbox and told the guys. They said it was fine and would clear but it came back almost immediate and now I am here.

\- Why is it you changed to the soft tyre for your second stint and not another set of mediums, saving the quicker tyre for the end? - 

In the aid of protecting against a safety car. I knew I had to run them even if just for a few laps, but if I changed onto them behind a safety I would have been in a very vulnerable position. At least if there had have been a safety I would have been able to use the free stop to change onto the prime.

\- You’re still smiling even though you have had to retire from the race, why is that? - 

I still have a smile on my face because there was nothing more I could have done today: I did my best.

\- - -

It had happened again. First place and a retirement. Of course he had been the one to retire. It had been his car that had the alternator problem. He didn’t want to talk to the press. He had given a statement as he returned to the paddock but he wasn’t going to stick around for questions.  Mark, stop the car echoed around his head and he hated the team more for it. He hadn’t even been gaining of Sebastian, they had already made sure of it. 

As Sebastian had just won his forth World Championship the Motor Home was abandoned. This suited Mark quite well; he didn’t have to walk around pretending to be happy for him. He wasn’t happy. He himself had wanted to win. Or at least if he couldn’t then Fernando. Too much for too long and he didn’t even deserve it. Mark kicked the wall gently in disappointment. The Spaniard had already tweeted his condolences, but Mark knew it was a front. Fernando would not be happy for Sebastian or think he really deserved this win. Mark wanted more than anything to go and find Fernando right now…

But he couldn’t. Not after qualy. He had already hurt Fernando too much and he wasn’t sure how much Sebastian knew or what he had seen. It was a weak moment for Fernando that the German had witnessed, but Fernando remained unaware and that was how Mark wanted to keep it. He walked around the empty dinning space and over to the big window that over looked the paddock. He could already see the Red Bull team members running around sporting the “Vettel World Champion” shirts. Never had Mark got a celebratory shirt. It had always been his younger teammate. He sighed as he leant his elbows on the bar that ran along the window to be held on to, drinking from his race flask. He let his mind wonder to the possibilities that 2014 held for him. He was going somewhere where he would be respected and hopefully would win Championships. Not one where his car was rigged so his teammate could hog the glory. 

He was looking over the pits and out towards the track. This track wouldn’t feature next year. He wasn’t sure how that would affect the Formula One Championship. It seemed a shame as it had only been on the calendar briefly and the fan base was really starting to build. He looked down to the ground below and watched the various team members pass, on their way to pack up or rush over to join the celebrations. One man in particular caught Mark’s eye and he couldn’t look away. So innocent and vulnerable they looked, surrounded by a sea of bland colours. They stood out because of this fact – the way their shirt colour stood out - but it was the way they were staring, so pleadingly up at him; as if willing him to come down. And Mark could see the hurt in his eyes, the hurt that no one else would see – even if they wanted to. He was showing Mark because he wanted Mark to know. Everyone else would get the mask that he was so good at wearing. His red suit seemed to magnify the effect of his expression. 

Fernando was looking up at him. 

He had rushed from the track not to get away from the press, but to come to Mark. And he was telling him that he was sad. Sad for more reasons than one. But he was telling Mark that only he would know. Only Mark would understand Fernando’s sadness… 

Because it was a sadness they shared. 

Mark’s debate about going down to Fernando was short-lived; moments after he had made eye contact he disappeared into the mass of people below. Dissolving into the India sky.


	12. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I believe that if life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade... And try to find somebody whose life has given them vodka, and have a party."  
> ~Ron White~
> 
>  
> 
> Dasha's Dress - http://shoppingdam.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/2011-Mori-Lee-Sexy-Purple-Cocktail-Dresess-2.jpg
> 
> Jess's Dress - http://img1.promgirl.com/_img/PRODUCTS/320/PromGirl-869346309.jpg 
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You are coming and we are not discussing it any more,” Dasha’s impatient tone drifted from the other room. Fernando was sitting on the sofa in the main part of the hotel room watching the television. The remote was held slackly in his hand and he wasn’t paying attention to the colourful blurs in front of him. He let his head fall back over the sofa so he was looking at the bedroom door upside down. 

“Dasha, I’m serious. I don’t want to.” Fernando said. He’d done his bit; he had said his condolences. He didn’t want to go through an entire evening of Sebastian bragging about his fourth consecutive win. He did not want to go to his celebration party. 

“You have to. You don’t have a choice.” Her tone had become a lot more clippie over this weekend and she seemed to have little patience with him. It was understandable really considering the shit he had given her over the last few weeks. He was scared of admitting what he was starting to believe was the truth now. He didn’t love her anymore. That’s why he couldn’t tolerate her annoying mannerisms. He had begun to see it true when he thought about how long these characteristics had really been annoying him. It was longer than a few days. He straightened up and turned his body towards the door. 

“Who is making me?” He asked. He felt more like he was talking to a friend. She appeared in the frame wrapped in a towel. Her hands were on her hips. 

“Everyone in the paddock is going, so society. You’ll have to take it up with them,” Fernando would have laughed at her last comment if it had sounded like a joke. Her tone was too serious and her impatience was clear. “Are you going to shower?”

“Dash, this is hard enough without having to go and pretend-”

“-He is my friend and you will have to show you are not sulking. You. Are. Coming.”

“You can’t make me. And you don’t need me to go with you. If you are going for you’re friend that doesn’t mean I have to go.” Fernando had held onto that. The fact Dasha always looked guilty and hurt at the mention of Sebastian. He didn’t think anything was going on, but he couldn’t help but wonder why she always reacted the same. She moved across the room and placed both hands on the back of the sofa, bringing her face towards his. 

“Everyone will be there. Don’t go for me, go for your precious reputation,” She seethed, her eyes narrowing. “You won’t be the only driver there drinking away their sorrows and not trying to think about why the party is really happening. All the others will be there too: Jenson, Kimi, Lewis, Mark,” She hesitated around Mark’s name for a split second, seeing if Fernando would react. He just continued to look at her with an emotionless face. “Nico, Felipe, Romain… all of them, so go for them if it makes you feel better about it.” Fernando held her eye, trying to read her motives. Why was she so desperate to have Fernando go? He shook his head and rolled his eyes. 

“You’re not going to give up are you,” He stated.

“No.” She said, straightening up and replacing her hands on her hips. Fernando got up. 

“Fine,” he exasperated, heading for the bathroom. 

“Thank you,” Dasha muttered. Five days ago the conversation would have been full of jokes and sneaky kisses, but now… There was nothing. Dasha watched the retreating figure of Fernando disappear into the bathroom and wondered when it all changed.

\- - -

“No.” Mark said, going to close the door in Jenson’s face. The Brit easily stopped its motion with the palm of his hand and Mark rolled his eyes, moving away from the door. Jenson bounded in like a happy puppy and dropped a black suit with a blue shirt onto Mark’s bed. 

“You have no idea how many weird looks you get when you are seen entering a hotel carrying this and dressed like this,” Jenson indicated to his own grey suit with a white shirt and a teal tie. Mark rolled his eyes again and folded his arms, leaning casually against the wall behind him. 

“People might have thought you were going to a wedding,” Mark suggested. 

“I think they have a different formality in dress code for weddings out here,” Jenson added.

“True… Maybe they thought you were selling them,” Mark joked as Jenson started impersonation a tailor. Mark laughed and pushed him away as he began to use the telephone cord as a tape measure. Jenson held the suit up to Mark. “I said no, mate,” 

“You have to come because I can’t deal with Fernando’s bitching!” Jenson whined.

“Fernando doesn’t bitch,” Mark corrected and it was Jenson’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Fine, but he will be there and you know it so you have to go,” Again, he held out the suit. Mark pushed it away, walking over to the sofa and picking up the television remote. 

“I don’t think he will,” Mark said as he turned on the television and flicked through the channels, looking for some sport. 

“Why wouldn’t he?” Jenson questioned. Mark just shrugged; he had his reasons but he wasn’t willing on sharing them with Jenson. He was sure Fernando was trying to send him some silent message when he had come and found him after the race and he was determined to stick around to find out what it was. 

“Mark, you can’t hang around here waiting for him to come down, it won’t happen again – it was a one off, he was just confused,” Jenson said in a sympathetic voice. Mark was instantly regretting telling Jenson about his and Fernando’s kiss. He didn’t want to be told it was a one off. He wanted to be told it was the beginning. 

“I’m not waiting around. Excuse me if I don’t want to have to pretend to be thrilled for the little git all evening,” Mark said in a dark tone. 

“You won’t have to! Jess and I will stick around and make sure you can just be moody,” Jenson took the remote from Mark’s hand and shut it off. The Australian turned to glare at him, but was confronted with that damn suit in his face. Jenson lowered the suit slightly and looked and Mark with his head cocked to the side slightly. “Or you can just talk about Fernando? I’m always here to listen,” 

“I don’t want to ruin you’re evening,” Mark looked down, wanting Jenson to stop pestering him. 

“Well then don’t come to ruin my evening, come to find Fernando and ruin his,” Jenson joked, giving Mark a nudge. Mark sighed and took the suit from Jenson, heading off to the bedroom to change. Going couldn’t hurt. He would just go and hopefully something good would happen. His thoughts were fully on drinking himself under the table and making Jenson lug him back to his hotel room as punishment for making him go in the first place. He was just about to step into his room when he heard the small cough behind him. He turned, confused, and saw Jenson holding out a pair of very shinny black shoes. 

“Are you sure you’re not a woman?” Mark said as he strode across the room to take the shoes from Jenson. 

“I just know what works. Knowing you, you would put some scruffy trainers with that suit,” Jenson brushed of his comment as he turned to the television, watching the football Mark had found. Mark just stood watching the television, holding the clothes Jenson had brought in his arms. 

“Go,” Jenson said in an impatient tone, pointing towards the bedroom without even turning to see Mark was still standing behind him. Mark shoved his shoulder as he walked into his bedroom. 

“Sorry, Mum,” He muttered, smirking at the soft laugh he got from Jenson. 

\- - -

Fernando stood in the bedroom with his back to the door. He was out of his jeans and Ferrari shirt and was now sporting black trousers and shoes with a red silk shirt undone at the collar. Dasha had left the jacket and tie on the back of the chair as well, but he wasn’t wearing them. He felt uncomfortable enough as it was, let alone dressing as if he was going to an opera. 

He had all of the necessary things he would want on him on the bed in front of him: his phone, wallet, key card, watch and his car keys. He slipped the key card into a spare compartment of his wallet before he pushed it into his left pocket along with his car keys. His phone went in his right. He was putting his watch on as he heard the door open behind him. He didn’t turn. Dasha had walked in wearing a figure-hugging purple strapless dress that stopped halfway down her thighs. She had high, navy blue stilettos on that matched her clutch bag of the same colour. Her hair fell straight down her back and she had coloured her face to make her eyes match the colour of the bag she was holding. She looked stunningly gorgeous, but Fernando still did not turn to look at her. Once he finally got the clasp of his watch to snap shut, he pulled his wallet back out of his pocket checking how much money he had on him. 

“Well?” Dasha asked Fernando’s back. He turned his head briefly over his shoulder before turning back to his wallet. 

“You look great,” He said in a distracted tone. Dasha felt deflated. She folded her arms and waited for him to turn around. He still didn’t. “What are you doing?” She tried to hide her impatience from her tone. 

“Checking I have enough cash,” Fernando said in the same tone. 

“It will be fine, if you don’t I’m sure you will be able to get some more out,” She was bored and Fernando could hear it in her tone. He closed the wallet and pushed it back in his pocket, fixing that false smile on his face that he would wear for the evening. He turned around. 

She was relieved to see him smiling again, but when he wrapped his arms around her waist and brushed her lips with his own she felt a flutter of the feeling she hadn’t felt for a very long time in her stomach. He kissed her forehead and let go of her, holding out his hand. Her concerns about their relationship vanished as she took his hand, smiling at him radiantly. 

He was just amused at how good he was getting at lying to her. 

\- - -

The club that had been booked out for the party was a ten-minute walk from the hotel. Above the walking people in the streets, the full moon was glowing fondly in an open sky. It looked down on those below it, surveying them and taking them in. The cloudless masses of space surrounding it make it appear omniscient. Its stare was intense and made those who challenged it shrivel away in search for solace in the shadows. Those who did not look, however, could find romance in the hazy light, illuminating the face of their lover and enhancing their perfect features. Making the world appear through rose-tinted glasses. 

Fernando had his right arm wrapped around the waist of the towering form of Dasha. He wasn’t leading the way, just simply using his connection to her to let himself be towed. It was odd having had this realisation about Dasha but not doing anything about it. Instead of talking to her about it, he chose to pretend it wasn’t happening. Pretend that everything was fine between them. Pretend everything was normal. The arm around Dasha’s waist didn’t feel like his. It was as if someone had asked him to hold her whilst they went away, and he was just there, stopping her from disappearing. 

As they rounded the corner to the club, the soft thud of the base was already audible. Fernando considered, for the third time this journey, whether he really wanted to be here. It would be all too easy to lie to Dasha and tell her he didn’t feel well. He sighed deeply as they approached the bouncer. 

“Name?” The muscular man in a black suit asked, looking down at his clipboard. Fernando measured the guy; the bouncer was only a little taller than himself, but he had obviously worked on muscular power than toning muscles and stamina and Fernando assumed that – in a fight – one hit from this man would probably have him down. 

“Dasha Kapustina and Fernando Alonso,” Dasha smiled. The bouncer looked down his list and crossed off their names. Fernando noticed the bouncer look Dasha up and down with an impressed smirk on his face before moving to the side and unclipping the velvet chain from in front of the door. He knew that should have most probably annoyed him, but he couldn’t care less. He felt like he was two different people, one here with Dasha and the other just to the side, the person he really was. 

“Have a very nice evening,” The bouncer said, gesturing his arm out to indicate they could go in. They passed by and were hit full in the face by the pounding volume of the music inside. The lights were flashing confusingly as they entered the club. A dance area was there and was pitch black apart from the flashing lights and the spotlights that were illuminating the huge banner that hung behind the DJ. It simply read ‘Vettel’ but in the same way it had been printed on his celebratory shirts. It was central on the wall and craved attention from everyone in the room. Fernando’s eyes looked up at it, darting from one end to the other. He felt the hand that wasn’t on Dasha clench into a fist as they walked further in. Fernando tore his eyes away. 

In the centre of the club was a round bar. It stopped about halfway towards the ceiling, which made the ‘Vettel’ banner always visible. Along the far left wall of the club were large booths that would seat around thirty people comfortably. In front of these were standing height tables seating two or three. The DJ was off to the right on a high platform with the dancers who had been restricted to the right hand side of the club, leaving the left for conversing. Fernando took in the scene in front of him. There were a lot of people on the dance floor considering the party had only started about half an hour ago and Fernando assumed they were all from Red Bull. 

“Seb!” Dasha yelled as she waved her arm high above her head, grabbing Sebastian’s attention. Fernando felt his blood boil as his eyes found the German who was standing just off the dance floor talking with Christian. He turned at the call of his name and smiled at Dasha ushering her over with a wave of his hand. She rushed over, smile still on her face, leaving Fernando standing alone in the middle of the room. The arm that had been around Dasha fell naturally into his pocket as he watched the two of them curiously. Sebastian was wearing a shirt near on the same colour as Dasha’s dress. He kissed her on both cheeks when she got to him and then the pair turned to face Christian who obviously said something funny as they both laughed. 

Fernando felt the urge to just turn around and leave the club but he remained where he was, just watching his girlfriend and how she acted around the younger man. It gave him an odd feeling; he hated it and didn’t care at the same time. They were too close, but they were just friends. Fernando frowned slightly over at them, trying to make sense of what he as feeling. And that was the moment the two of them looked over at him. He panicked. He knew if he was drawn into the conversation he would have to congratulate Sebastian and seem sincere. It was easy on Twitter; he just had to type the words and press send, irrelevant of how true they were. But he was still upset and annoyed that Sebastian had beaten him again and so he didn’t think a verbal congratulation would be very heartfelt at all. 

He smiled and raised his hand in acknowledgement but then he turned away. He didn’t want to have to face more lying and acting and so he walked himself towards the bar. He scanned the room as he went, looking for some other person he knew here. They all seemed to blend together, not dressed in their team colours, and his search became frantic. Five steps away from the bar his eyes fell on the booth full of people looking like they wanted to be anywhere but here. All of the Ferrari team members were in one booth, talking among each other and drinking. Fernando saw Rob and Felipe pointing subtly at people and laughing, which made him grin. He moved towards the booth, still with his right hand in his pocket. Stefano was the first to see him coming. 

“You dragged here too?” He asked as he rose to shake the driver’s hand. Fernando took it, giving back a small smile. 

“Apparently it’s a social obligation,” He said, rolling his eyes. Stefano smiled lightly and shook his head. He released Fernando’s hand and passed him over a beer. Fernando nodded his thanks and sat down next to Andrea. 

“Social obligation? Christian told me that Bernie was organising this and there would be some key sponsors here,” Stefano said.

“Sponsors? That sounds like shit,”

“It was, that’s why we’re all in here drinking free stuff,” Stefano indicated to the drink wall behind him.

“So whose booth have we invaded?” Fernando asked, already knowing the answer and letting the smile spread on his face. 

“Christian’s, he’s going to be mightily pissed off when he finds out,” Stefano smiled, bringing his own beer to his lips. Fernando laughed as he opened his own. The purple/blue hangings and decor should have been a give away that this was not Ferrari territory, but he loved how this was in some small way there own form of revenge. He grabbed the flowerpot from the middle of the table and, lifting the flower out, emptied the entire bottle of beer into the now empty vase. He pushed the flower and vase back into the middle of the table. 

“Give us another one,” Fernando called through the small drunken cheer that had emitted from the crowd around him at his action. Stefano smiled and passed him another, which this time he opened and drunk. Yes, here with Ferrari was much better company than Dasha. 

\- - -

Mark walked in, already feeling pissed off. He wasn’t showing it; Jenson and Jessica were with him and he didn’t want to spoil their night, but he could feel it burning inside him. Jess was wearing a dress the same colour as Jenson’s tie. It fell over one shoulder and was secured tightly around her waist with a black belt and the dress stopped just before her knees. She looked really pretty and the two of them seemed to complement each other in both their appearances and also in general. Mark walked in and made a beeline for the bar with Jenson and Jess in his wake. 

“Do you want something to drink?” He asked, extracting his wallet from his pocket and looking over at the pair. Jenson had his hand linked in Jess’s and he looked down into her eyes in a loving way, smiling. She answered Mark without looking away from Jenson. 

“I’ll have a Lemon Drop Martini please, Mark,” She said. Jenson kissed her forehead and she wrapped her arms around him. 

“Just a beer please, mate,” Jenson said, turning back to the Australian. Mark ordered the drinks, as well as a beer for himself, and turned his back to the brunette bartender as she went to fetch the drinks, looking at Jenson and Jess. Just seeing them so into each other made him feel strongly like the third wheel. He felt awkward, like he was intruding and he folded his arms across his chest. The drinks arrived and Mark paid the girl who had served him. He handed them out and took the first swig of his beer. He noticed Jess side-glance the dance floor subtly and took the hint – even though it wasn’t really given. 

“You don’t have to stay with me all night,” Mark said to Jenson over the loud beating of the base. The Brit looked a little confused, but Jess gave Mark a grateful look. Mark nodded slightly to her. 

“As long as you’re OK. Don’t want to leave you to do something stupid,” Jenson joked, indicating with his head over Mark’s shoulder. Mark turned to look and saw the large group of people in one of the booths. He was confused for a moment until his eyes picked up the red shirt among the sea of bland colours and he saw Fernando talking with a huge smile on his face, surrounded by laughing people. Mark turned back to Jenson. 

“I’m fine, mate,” he smiled, taking another swing of his beer. “Now go and have fun!” He gave the two of them a light push and they disappeared into the crowd. Mark took a long drag from his beer before setting the empty glass bottle on the counter and heading towards Fernando. He moved slowly though groups of people, shaking some hands as he passed and sending various “I’m great,”, “Yes, it was a shame about the race,” and “I am happy for Seb” as he passed people. As he got closer, he noticed how flushed Fernando’s face was and wondered how much he had already drunk or if it was just warm in the confined area. Everyone around him seemed to be intoxicated as they were all laughing at what appeared to be nothing. Fernando was trying to say something, but every time he went to, he would laugh making the others around him do also. But it was the expression on Fernando’s face that made Mark turn away and head back to the bar. 

Fernando was happy. 

It had been a long time since Mark had seen that brightening smile on the Spaniard’s face and he didn’t want to be the one who wiped it off. He felt anger pulse through him as his head said no but his heart said yes. It wasn’t fair; he couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t be the one, again, to take the happiness away from Fernando. He moved closer to the bar and fell into a vacant stall, ordering another beer without even looking up. Back to plan intoxicate-oneself-until-you-forget-how-to-feel. 

\- - -

Fernando was trying to find Dasha. He had been with the Ferrari team since he got in and some of them had started asking questions. In all honesty, he had totally forgotten her. He assumed Sebastian would make sure she was all right, but it didn’t look good from the outside. He had made his excuses and left the booth, planning on getting Dasha and taking her back there. Though finding her was becoming a little bit more of a challenge as the amount of people in the club seemed to have tripled in the hour and a half he had been in there. He felt like a fish trying to swim against the current as he fought his way thought groups of people. 

He found himself on the edge of the dance floor, standing right at the front and leaning on the raised stage behind him. Frantically his eyes were darting around people, but he couldn’t recognise anyone. He had only drunk two beers, determined to keep a clear head; he didn’t want to storm up to someone and do something he would regret. Not Sebastian, Kimi, Lewis, Jenson, Mark… 

He was suddenly searching for someone else. He hadn’t seen Mark all evening but he assumed he must be here. There was no way he could get away with not coming to this party; it was probably in his contract.  You must go to any Red Bull party when Sebastian wins  Fernando smirked a little at the thought of a get out clause as he returned to searching for the Australian. Suddenly the music stopped and Fernando’s ears buzzed slightly in relief. He turned, confused, to see Christian standing in a spotlight just above him. Fernando knew what was coming next and tried desperately to move from where he was. It was too late. People were already pushing towards him to get closer to the stage. Fernando kept his back to the stage.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate our success with us…” Christian started, but Fernando focused on forcing his words to become distant as he continued looking through the crowd for Mark. A murmur of Christian’s words penetrated Fernando’s mind as he saw Mark appear in the space that was now clear at the end of the bar. Everyone who had been standing around had obviously rushed over to get closer to the stage and now there was a mass of space by the entrance where Mark was standing. Fernando could see the scowl on his face as the Australian glared darkly at his team principle on stage and Fernando started trying to push his way towards him. 

“So please welcome you’re four time World Champion: Sebastian Vettel!” Christian called and more cheering erupted from the crowd as Sebastian walked over and hugged Christian. Christian passed over the microphone. Fernando was stopped in his tracks as the people surrounding him formed a wall, determined to catch every word Sebastian said. Fernando relented and turned to look up at the German. 

“Thank you all so much for coming. It is all still a bit of a blur and I can’t quite believe this is really true. I just want to say a big thank you to the team, my family and my friends for supporting me through this. It was not an easy challenge but we still succeeded.” Fernando resisted the urge to scoff and rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “I have a few in particular I would like to thank independently. Christian, of course, for running the team so excellently and supporting me through this challenge. It has not been easy for either of us, but we’ve done the double again,” Applause followed this statement. “Adrian, the car again was amazing. Without your talent it would have been a lot harder than it was and we would probably still be fighting, so for your excellent design and engineering, I thank you,” More applause. Fernando was starting to get bored of his speech. 

“My penultimate thanks go to my teammate, Mark Webber,” Fernando’s face fell into a shocked expression. “We have had some misunderstandings in the past but I really feel we have helped each other this year. This World Championship is partially down to you, so thank you for being such a great teammate and we will all miss you next year.” Everyone cheered, caught up in the disguise Sebastian had placed on the words. But Fernando saw the real point of his words; he was rubbing it in. He was making sure Mark knew that he still didn’t have a World Championship and he now had four. He was giving him some credit, but it was all a guise to make Mark feel well and truly like a number two. Second Best. “And my final thanks goes to Fernando Alonso.” 

Fernando had been on his way to try and reach Mark again, but Sebastian’s words had him frozen. He turned back to Sebastian to see him looking straight at him. He held his gaze. “All four years I have won the World Championship, this man has always been the one pushing me. Last man standing always. So I want to thank him for pushing me and helping me to get my four consecutive World Championships, because without him, I probably wouldn’t be standing here holding number four.” A loud applause came for that one and some people patted Fernando's shoulder. But Fernando just glared up at him. First Mark then him. He was just reminding the pair of that power he was holding. Dropping in the message that now the Championships were over for him he would be solely focussing on taking Fernando down.

Someone handed Sebastian a bottle of champagne and he sprayed it into the crowd, as if he were on the podium. Fernando got soaked as he tried to push away from the front, but it was only when the music returned that he could finally get through. All thoughts of finding anyone else had left his head as he dropped onto a bar stall, ordering a shot of tequila. 

\- - -

Mark was furious. He wanted to just drink himself under the table, and would have done so quickly if he was drinking shots, but he preferred to do shots with someone else. He felt lonely doing them by himself and so was sticking with beer. He was still having coherent thoughts as he started his sixth one and Sebastian’s thanks were still bouncing around his head.  We have helped each other out this year… thank you for being such a great teammate… so this World Championship is partially down to you. It was tantalising. He had known Sebastian was just drawing attention to the fact he had not said anything about the unfairness of the team. He had been a good number two, so he got to share the victory. Even though it would always be Sebastian who was remembered for the achievement. 

The bar was pretty vacant now; most people were on the dance floor. There was just him and a few groups from the teams who didn’t feel like celebrating. He took another mouthful of beer before putting the glass down harshly on the surface. Some of the beer splashed up out of the side, spilling onto the bar top below. Before Mark had a chance to move, a hand holding a cloth was wiping away the spill. 

“Careful,” she said, moving Mark’s elbow before he placed it in a sticky, wet patch from an earlier spill. He looked up at the bartender and realised it was the same brunette girl who had served him when he came in. Her hair was braided from the top of her head down, falling onto her right shoulder, keeping her hair out of her face. Only a few strands on the side had swung free and they were framing her face delicately. His stomach dropped slightly as he noticed her eyes were so similar to Fernando’s he wasn’t sure it could be possible. He blushed slightly, looking down in embarrassment. As he did, his eyes caught the name on her name badge: Alice. 

“Sorry, I’m not usually so…” He let his words fade; she probably wasn’t interested in the mundane aspects of his life. She tucked the cloth into the top of her black apron and lent on the beer tap handles, still looking at him. 

“It’s alright,” She smiled sweetly. He kept his eyes looking down, becoming less aware that she was still watching him. “Do you mind if I ask…” He looked up to see her biting her bottom lip and looking with her eyes to the left. 

“Ask what?” He encouraged. She took his tone as a green light. 

“It’s just, you seem pretty pissed and I was wondering why… you’ve been like it for the past couple of races…” Mark was confused slightly at her attention to his moods over the last few weeks. It was a little worrying. She seemed to pick up on his confusion as her face changed to panic urgency. “Oh no, I’m not a stalker!” She stated, raising her hand towards him. “No, no. I work for the catering staff in Ferrari and when we’re not working I watch the races,” She said. Mark chose to not let her push on the subject of his mood if she worked closely with Fernando. He changed the subject.

“If you work for Ferrari what are you doing behind the bar at a Red Bull party?”

“I drew the short straw,” She said as Mark drunk again from his beer. “We were all enlisted to help because it is a pretty big get up, and I’m not complaining; extra cash on the hip is not a bad thing,” Mark smiled at her as she shrugged the comment and smiled. “So some of us were working in the kitchens on the buffet that came out earlier and some of us drew the short straw and have to work all evening,” 

“Huh,” Mark paused with the glass halfway towards the table. “That sounds a bit unfair,” Alice shrugged. 

“Sort of, but I get double the amount of pay, so I’m not complaining too much,” Mark smiled at her as the conversation fell to an end. “He’s been like it too, you know,” Alice muttered quietly, leaning closer so no one would overhear. Mark was a little shocked at her comment but decided to try and play ignorant. That was, until he followed her gazed and saw Fernando, who was still soaked from the champagne spray, sitting at the end of the bar glaring down at a glass half full of some kind of drink. Mark looked back at Alice. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mark said, leaning back and talking another mouthful of drink. His eyes fell to Fernando as he did so. Alice rolled her eyes and started to dry up some glasses. 

“You’re being very obvious, Webber,” She said in a sing-song voice, keeping her attention on the glass in her hand. Mark wrinkled his nose in disgust at the use of his surname. 

“Please, Alice, call me Mark,” Her name got her looking up at him and she momentarily was confused. He indicated to her name badge and she blushed slightly.

“Sorry, Mark,” She corrected, talking to the glass. Once it was dry, she put it back on the shelf and went to get another. But she noticed Mark was looking over at Fernando with pained eyes. She abandoned her job and moved over to him again. “Look, it’s been a shit day for the both of you. Just go over and talk to him,” Mark turned away from Fernando and looked down at his glass, running his finger around the brim. 

“I can’t,” He muttered. Alice seemed to understand a lot about his situation and he felt she was very easy to talk to. 

“Why not?”

“I can’t hurt him again… it’s not fair,” 

“You won’t hurt him. He just needs to know he’s got someone who will support him!” Alice was drawing her face closer to Mark’s demanding he look at her. He surrendered and looked up into those chocolate brown eyes. “His girlfriend pretty much bounced to Vettel when she crossed onto the threshold and then the man himself made him feel shit and alone… he needs to know someone has got his back,”

“But he doesn’t want my support. Every time I try he throws it away.”

“That’s because you’re trying for something else, Mark,” Alice gave him a knowing look as she moved away to serve another customer who had appeared. Mark looked back over at Fernando. He was trying too hard because he wanted more than to just be his friend. He wanted him. He didn’t want to have to pretend anymore. He wanted life to be simple and he didn’t want to have to share Fernando. Alice returned. 

“So you think I should just hide away what I’m really feeling and pretend to be best buds?” Mark asked sarcastically. Alice sighed showing Mark he hadn’t understood what she had said. 

“No, all I'm saying is show him he’s got your support and then let him fill in the gap. If he wants what you want, Mark, he will run into your open arms and never let go,” Alice turned to face Fernando along with Mark this time. “He’s had a rough four years being constantly beaten by Vettel and it’s not right because Fernando deserves so much more,” Mark looked over at her and saw the support of a true fan who would stand by Fernando whatever happened. When she looked back he nodded at her, giving a small smile. She smiled wider. “Fantastic.”

\- - -

Fernando wasn’t focusing on anyone else. People could be talking to him for all he knew and he was perfectly happy in the thought that he was blanking them. He was staring down at his nearly empty glass. He could order another, but that meant bringing himself back to the thudding noise and flashing lights of the club. Something he wasn’t up for. He was just frowning, anger washing through him. He wanted to lash out to get Sebastian back for how humiliating he had been. Making Fernando feel like it had always been his intention to get Sebastian four World titles. His fist clenched on the bar as he closed his eyes, forcing himself to count to ten and calm down. 

“Fernando Alonso?” His name made him open his eyes and blink confused at the brunette girl in front of him. He could swear he recognised her, but his alcohol-fuzzed head wasn’t providing much help in placing her. He nodded. “Someone has sent this over for you,” She placed a full bottle of beer in front of him with a small smile. He frowned down at it confused. Someone had brought him a drink?

“Who?” he asked the girl. She indicated to someone at the other end of the bar and he followed her arm, his eyes falling on the buyer. Mark. Mark placed his own bottle to his forehead and saluted with it, giving him a small smile before he brought his eyes down to the bottle and started fiddling with the label. Fernando felt his mouth open slightly into a small ‘o’ and the frown disintegrated from his face. He looked down at the bottle and then back over to Mark. The Australian wasn’t looking at him. He took a draft from his bottle and looked down at it again. Fernando turned back to the bartender. 

“Tell him I say thanks,” Fernando smiled. She nodded and headed back down the bar. Mark looked back over at him after the girl had relayed the message and Fernando smiled, taking a drink from his new beer. 

\- - - 

That hadn’t worked. He was more annoyed that he had believed something so small could actually make up for what he had done to Fernando over the past few weeks. He strode into the hotel with a grimace of anger on his face. He had honestly though Fernando would have come over, but he hadn’t. He had drunk his free beer and disappeared. Mark wasn’t even sure as to where, but after that he wasn’t in the mood to stick around anymore. He had pushed himself from the bar and ignored Alice trying to tell him something. The walk back had sucked; it was raining pretty hard and if it weren’t for his jacket he would be soaked to the skin. He was annoyed at Jenson as well for making him go. He hadn’t wanted to; it had been such a shit day he just wanted it to end. He began to ascend the stairs.

He didn’t meet anyone on his way to his room. It was a quiet journey to the eleventh floor and he felt himself calming down a little as he reached his floor. That was until he had yet another fight with a hotel door. No matter what he tried, the little light still shone brightly red, denying him access. Mark hit the door with his palm in frustration as he wasted around five minutes trying to get the blasted thing open. Finally, it changed and Mark slammed the door behind him as he entered the room. He shook off his rain soaked jacket and threw it over the chair that was next to the desk.

“Fucking stupid key system,” He muttered to himself as he slid the wretched white card on to the desk haphazardly. He ran his hands through his hair and walked through to the bedroom, toeing off Jenson’s shoes as he did. Just as he passed through the doorframe he realised the second man in the room.

Fernando was standing against the far wall of the room. 

Mark froze. Monumentality shocked, he turned his head to look back at the room he had passed through and then back at Fernando. How in the hell did he get in? Fernando was looking at his feet. His hair was plastered to his face and Mark realised Fernando couldn’t have been here long. His red shirt was also glued to his body from the rain it was soaked with and he was shivering slightly. Mark walked towards him cautiously. 

“Fernando?” Mark said in a tone that matched his gait. Fernando still didn’t look up. He sighed deeply. “Fernando,” Mark placed a hand tentatively on Fernando’s shoulder, relieved when it wasn’t thrown off. Mark gently stroked his thumb along Fernando’s shoulder staring intensely down into the Spaniard’s face. Mark was begging him to look up, but he wouldn’t. Fernando had his eyes closed. Sadness and worry painted themselves across Marks’s face as he lent down so his face was now level with Fernando’s. “Hey,” Mark said softly, using his free hand to place a finger under Fernando’s chin and tilt his head up. Fernando opened his eyes and Mark saw tears building there. A pang of pain filled Mark. Had he seriously done it again? He went to move away from Fernando, but the Spaniard clasped the hand that moved from under his chin and pressed it against his cheek. His eyes slid shut again as one lonesome tear rolled down his cheek. Fernando’s hand remained on top of Mark’s; desperately keeping the connection between them as if he was scared if he let go Mark would disappear. 

“What’s wrong,” Mark asked, praying Fernando would open his eyes again. Fernando’s fingers started gently brushing the knuckles on Mark’s hand. He looked into Mark’s eyes and felt his whole body relax. His free hand pushed itself into Mark’s wet hair and he watched his fingers curl around the damp strands. 

“Nothing now,” Fernando sighed, giving a weak smile returning his gaze to Mark’s eyes. Mark didn’t look convinced. “Before you came in you hit the door. It made me jump and I thought you were angry,” Fernando sighed, the hand in Mark’s hair trailing down to the back of his neck. He looked down again. “I thought you were angry with me,”

“No,” Mark exasperated with a small chuckle, reassured. “Just the key system. I could never be angry with you, mate,” The word ‘mate’ sent a shiver of pleasure down Fernando’s spine. He looked up. 

“I told the girl to tell you I had gone to the hotel, but I wanted to surprise you. I thought maybe you were angry I had left you alone,” Mark pressed his forehead to Fernando’s and let his own eyes close, just taking in his precious words. 

“Not angry,” Mark murmured, feeling Fernando’s warm breath on his face. 

“Thank you for the drink,” Fernando said, his own eyes closed. Neither of the two men was looking at each other, just feeling. The closeness was intoxicating and neither of them wanted it to end. 

“No problem,” Mark smiled. A small, peaceful silence ebbed around them briefly. Mark opened his eyes and lent back from Fernando’s face. Fernando was still holding one hand in place and he let he other wrap around Fernando’s waist. Fernando opened his eyes and looked up at Mark, slightly confused with the movement. “How the hell did you get in here?” Mark said, looking around the room indicating his question to Fernando. Fernando smiled smugly. 

“It was easy. I told the women on the front desk that Mark Webber had lost his key and asked if I could get him another one. She sighed, rolled her eyes and gave me this,” Fernando took his hand briefly from Mark’s neck and extracted the white card from his back pocket. His other hand, that was holding Mark’s to his face, took the place of the other on Mark’s neck. 

“She must have been pretty confused when I came in the hotel then,” Mark mused, shaking his head amusedly at Fernando, wrapping his now free arm around Fernando’s waist with the other. Fernando shrugged. 

“Maybe not. She seemed more interested in her magazine that what I was doing with the card,” 

“I might have to get extra security on my door then,” Mark said, bringing his lips tantalisingly close to Fernando’s skin. Fernando shuddered in anticipation and knew he hadn’t hidden it well when Mark’s gentle mutter of a laugh filled his mind. He momentarily lost track of his thoughts. 

“I would break it all down if it meant getting to you,” Fernando turned to face Mark and spoke directly into his eyes. Mark closed the gap between them and gently pressed his lips to Fernando’s. He was intending it to be a split second kiss, but Fernando had another idea. He pushed himself into Mark’s hold and let the key card fall to the floor as he wrapped his second hand around Mark’s neck, bringing him closer. It was not long until Fernando was sucking on Mark’s bottom lip, begging to be given entrance. Mark obliged happily and let Fernando’s taste fill his mouth. He kept one hand supportively on the small of Fernando’s back, but his other slid up his body and into his hair, catching in the damp curls and wiping them from their glued position. 

Fernando began to play with the short tufts of hair at the base of Mark’s hair line, trying to fill that distance that he could constantly feel between Mark and himself. He was desperately trying to bring him closer, but he always felt as if he was drifting away. Fernando fought Mark’s tongue for dominance as he let his left hand slide down Mark’s back sliding it up under his shirt. The sudden moment of connection of flesh on flesh made Mark gasp, and Fernando thrust his tongue is Mark’s mouth, forcing his to take a few steps back at his force. Mark was trying to focus on one thing at a time, but it was all happening together and he found himself falling into the bliss of pleasure as Fernando’s fingers ran around his hips, just under the top of his trousers. Mark broke their kiss and moved his lips down to the exposed skin of his neck. Fernando leant his head to the right, his breath hitching as Mark sucked gently on his sensitive skin. Mark could still taste the champagne on his skin from Sebastian’s charade earlier, but it was dulled by the taste of rain and Fernando himself. He heard Fernando gasp as he nipped slightly at the curve of skin between his neck and shoulder. Fernando’s hands were both now tangled in Mark’s hair and his eyes were closed. 

The sudden release made Fernando open his eyes and look up, confused. Mark wasn’t with him anymore and panic started to rise in him as he turned his head around the room rapidly. With liberation flooding through his body, he saw Mark lying back on the bed, laughing slightly at him. Fernando smirked before crossing the room quickly, kicking off his shoes. He climbed on top of Mark, straddling his waist, as the Australian caught a hold of the collar of his shirt and pulled his close, returning to a passionate kiss. Mark’s fingers itched to unbutton the silk material that he was gripping in his hands, but he fought it. He didn’t want to go too far and panic Fernando. He would let the Spaniard make the decisions. He could feel his erection rubbing against Fernando’s thigh, which was not helping with this decision. 

Fernando’s hands had found Mark’s hair again, but his body was urging him to push for more. He could feel Mark’s cock rubbing against him and it just made his own grow harder. Without much knowledge of what he was trying to do, he broke the kiss and gently started placing butterfly kisses down Mark’s neck. What happened next sparked off the rest of the evening’s events. Once simple thing that unleashed the lust that both men were trying to hold back:

Mark moaned. 

It was such a perfect sound that Fernando wanted to hear it again and again. His hands fumbled down onto Mark’s chest and began ripping at the buttons. As he exposed some more flesh, he placed another, long, tantalising kiss on the new skin that sent goose bumps through Mark. Mark let his head drop back onto the bed as Fernando teased him, fingers gently exploring the newly revealed flesh. Fernando’s hot breath danced spectacularly across Mark’s navel and he didn’t even know he was doing it. Mark closed his eyes and let himself become overwhelmed by the pleasure Fernando was generating. 

Fernando let Mark’s now undone shirt fall open, still remaining on his arms. He sat himself up and dragged his hands slowly and curiously down Mark’s stomach. He traced the outlines of the muscles he had never truly seen before and felt another shudder of anticipation run down his spine. Fernando was sat; straddling Mark’s hips and his slight movements were sending friction through Mark’s trousers. Mark was fighting to not throw Fernando over and fuck him, which was all he really wanted to do. But his self-control was slipping. 

“Nano… Please…” His words were breathless. The begging in Mark’s tone shocked Fernando and he noticed now how Mark’s grip on his shirt had significantly tightened. He felt Mark rock his hips subtly and Fernando, pushed himself off his hips. Mark opened his eyes, looking over at Fernando, worried he’d pushed it too far. But he was wrong. Fernando was repositioning himself lower on the bed, his hands running slowly up Mark’s legs. Mark sat up and caught Fernando, pulling him also into a sitting position and kissing him gently. Fernando was a little confused. 

“Only if you want to,” Mark said, cupping Fernando’s face. Fernando answered him by pushing the open edges of Mark’s shirt over his shoulders. Mark moved his arms and let the fabric puddle behind him before catching Fernando’s face again and kissing him softly. The tenderness of the kiss made Fernando melt. Mark slowly slid his hands from Fernando’s face and down onto his shoulders, undoing each button of his sodden red shirt. He helped Fernando shrug out of the material before throwing it onto the floor, never breaking their kiss. Mark’s hands found Fernando’s face again and he gently guided him back down onto the bed, pulling him on top of himself. When Fernando left his lips and began the trail down his torso, Mark sighed contently, closing his eyes and letting one hand curl into Fernando’s hair. Fernando left no time between exposing Mark’s cock out of his trousers and catching it in his mouth. 

Mark felt his back arch as he pushed his hips up slowly towards Fernando. He began gently sucking as he moved his head up and down. Mark fought the urge to guide him deeper with the hand that was resting in his hair and focused on just how good it felt. The way Fernando dragged his tongue along the edge of his cock, pulling all but the tip out of his mouth before crashing back down on him. As the pressure began to build in Mark’s navel, he involuntarily thrust his hips into Fernando, forcing his cock deeper. He felt Fernando gag and waited, cursing at himself in his head. Fernando took a deep breath before he continued. But when Mark accidently did it again, Fernando pushed himself off, coughing. Mark looked down at Fernando with sympathy in his eyes. He caressed his neck gently. 

“Sorry,” Mark panted. Fernando wiped the saliva off his chin and pushed himself up the bed, crawling on top of Mark. “Are you alright?” Mark asked as Fernando retook his position straddling Mark’s hip. The contact with the tip of his exposed cock and the edge of Fernando’s trousers made his hips twitch upwards. Fernando nodded and brought his lips down to Mark’s, sucking gently on his lower lip. He let Mark push his tongue into his mouth before rolling his hips down onto Mark. Mark broke the kiss, concerned. 

“Please,” Fernando looked up at him through his eyelashes and Mark felt an overwhelming need to give him what he wanted. It was what he himself wanted also, but as he slid his hands down Fernando’s sides he felt he was doing it more for the man on top of him. He placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

“Roll over,” Mark whispered, trailing kisses down Fernando’s neck. Fernando didn’t move. Mark looked back to Fernando and saw him shaking his head. He didn’t understand. “I thought you wanted me to-”

“-I want to…” Fernando stopped, unsure of himself. But Mark understood. Fernando wanted to feel a closer connection with Mark as he fucked him. He wanted to be able to see Mark’s face and sink into his eyes. 

“It’s more painful,” Mark added, though he thought the comment would be irrelevant. 

“I don’t care,” Fernando muttered, looking directly into Mark’s eyes. Mark pushed his trousers and underwear down his legs with Fernando still seated on him. As he did, Fernando began to suck at his neck. He didn’t relent when Mark straightened up and the Australian felt the pleasure of the intense motion on his neck fly down to his navel. 

“Fernando, whaahhh-” Mark’s words were cut off as a wave of pleasure rolled over him. Fernando released the skin and kissed gently at the red mark he had left behind. Mark placed a hand on the small of Fernando’s back and guided him down so now he was lying below him. He slid Fernando’s remaining clothes down his legs and took a minute to savour this feeling and memorise this moment forever in his head. Everything he had ever wanted: here. He smiled as he pressed his lips down on Fernando’s and felt the Spaniard’s arms wrap around his neck. Mark briefly broke the kiss to reach into his bag and retrieve a condom and some lube. Fernando’s hands held onto his hips as he watched Mark pull on the condom and slicken his fingers. 

“This might hurt a little,” Mark warned gently and Fernando nodded. He brought himself down onto Fernando and returned to their kiss. Mark’s fingers ran around the edge of the ring of muscles Fernando was shamelessly pushing towards him and he felt the vibrations of Fernando’s moan of pleasure in their kiss. In time to pushing his tongue into Fernando’s mouth, he slipped one finger inside Fernando, breaching the tight tension that he met. Fernando’s mouth fell away from his as his head dropped back in ecstasy, Spanish profanities falling from his delicate lips. Mark thrust his finger deeply; making sure Fernando was slick enough before he entered another finger, spreading Fernando wider. 

Fernando’s arms had wrapped tightly around Mark’s neck and he pulled himself closer to him and Mark pumped him with his fingers. He let his gasps and moans fall freely from his lips, getting lost in the moment. Fernando was kissing Mark’s shoulder as he slid a third finger in. Fernando bit down on the flesh between his teeth it some desperate plea to not scream.

“Ahh!” Mark yelled in pain as Fernando sunk his teeth into his flesh. The moment passed quickly as Fernando returned to his kissing and pleasure overcame pain. 

“Mark… Por favor…Por favor… Te necesito…” Fernando panted, the pleasure Mark was indulging resorting him to his mother’s tongue. Mark could see Fernando was falling apart in his arms and swiftly removed his fingers. He lined up his cock and slowly pushed deep into Fernando. Once he was fully inside, he stopped, just feeling the moment. Fernando felt so close to Mark. There was physically no space left between them. He wanted to pull himself closer to Mark, catch his lips with his own but it would be too much. His arms were still loosely hanging around Mark’s neck, but it was Mark who was keeping him rooted. Mark who was keeping him here. And there was no other way he wanted it to be. 

Mark picked up a steady pace but kept his eyes on Fernando. He didn’t want to do too much and he could already see tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. Fernando finally pulled himself closer to Mark, smashing his lips onto his and their moans of pleasure reverberated in each other’s mouths. Mark kept one hand on the small of Fernando’s back but as he felt his climax building he wrapped the other around Fernando’s hard cock, pumping him in time with his thrusts. This new wave of pleasure flooded through Fernando and he melted back into Mark’s hold as he came. A few thrusts later and Mark ejaculated in Fernando. The sudden rush Fernando felt between his legs was almost enough to make him loose his mind. Mark fell forwards onto Fernando panting heavily. Fernando softly kissed at Mark’s face as they both came off their high. Mark pulled himself out of Fernando to a small moan. He disposed of his spent condom and moved back over to the bed. Fernando was a mess. 

“Come on,” he cooed, trying to get Fernando to move. Fernando battered his outstretched hand away, trying to remain in the moment. “You’ve got to clean yourself up, you look a mess, mate,” Mark joked. Fernando opened one of his eyes to look over at Mark and then groaned, rolling onto his side. Mark entwined his fingers gently into Fernando’s and pulled him away from the bed. Fernando pouted at him as he led him to the bathroom. Mark pushed the door open and indicated that Fernando go in. “Go on, go and shower off,”

“What about you?” Fernando muttered in a weak voice. 

“I’m not so bad. You’re covered in rain, champagne and…” Mark let his voice drift, not needing to finish the sentence. Fernando blushed but nodded. All he really wanted to do was go to sleep, but Mark was right, he needed to wash off. Fernando disappeared into the bathroom and when Mark heard the shower running he moved back into the bedroom. 

He began to tidy up the mess they had made, piling Fernando’s clothes on a pile on the chair whilst sorting away his own. He pulled on some old joggers and a grey hoodie as he did so, feeling a little exposed. Picking up the discarded extra card for his room, Mark had an idea. He moved over to Fernando’s clothes and extracted his key card from his wallet. He grabbed his own as he left the hotel room, rushing up to Fernando’s taking two steps at a time. He let himself in and easily found the pyjama bottoms Fernando had kept from Korea. As he re-entered the bedroom and put Fernando’s key card back, the man himself appeared from the bathroom. He just stood in the frame with a towel wrapped around his waist, not knowing what to do with himself. 

“You alright?” Mark called as he crossed the bedroom and lent against that room’s doorframe. Fernando looked up at him. 

“I don’t…” Fernando caught his bottom lip between his teeth, looking down at the floor. Mark picked up the pyjamas he had retrieved from upstairs and threw them at Fernando. Fernando caught them, looking confused. “You have more than one pair?”

“No… I don’t want you to go,” Mark said trying not to show the desperation in his voice. It didn’t work. Fernando looked up at him and felt all sorts of feelings he couldn’t explain. 

“I don’t want to to go either,” He said with a small smile. Mark smiled and strode across the room, catching Fernando’s face in his hands and lightly kissing him. Fernando felt in tune with Mark as he let the hand that wasn’t holding the towel and pyjamas slide into his hair. He tried to curve himself into Mark’s body, but before he could even begin to pull him closer Mark pulled away. 

“I’ve got to freshen up,” Mark said, planting another kiss on Fernando’s forehead. “I hope you didn’t use all the hot water,” He joked and Fernando blushed. Mark stepped around him and Fernando watched him as he disappeared behind the bathroom door, shutting it with a soft click. 

No, he defiantly did not love Dasha. 

\- - -

Mark rubbed the towel through his hair making it as dry as possible as he passed into the bedroom. He looked over to the bed and already saw Fernando curled in a ball under the sheets. He moved around the room quietly, extracting some more cotton pyjama bottoms from the draw and pulling them on. The sweet smell of the hotel’s shower gel filled the air, making Mark feel a little light headed. For a moment, he just looked down at the small form of Fernando; sitting perched on the edge of the bed. He looked so young and innocent wrapped tightly in the sheets that Mark didn’t think he had the heart to disturb him. Mark got up, deciding he would take the sofa when Fernando stirred. 

“Mark?” He called, reaching out a hand. Mark took it, entwining their fingers together and bringing their interlocked hands to his lips. 

“Yes, Fernando?” Mark whispered towards his. Fernando’s eyes fluttered open as he took in the man in front of him. 

“Stay with me,” his words, so magnificently innocent, pulled Mark in. Keeping their hands linked, Mark pulled back the sheets and Fernando moved across the bed to let him in. Mark setting himself as Fernando curled himself around Mark, fitting himself to the shape of his body and pulling him as close as he could. Still keeping their hands together, Mark put his other one around Fernando’s shoulder and pulled him closer still. Fernando grabbed the discarded sheet and threw it over them both. Silence fell and they both sighed contently into one another. Mark pressed his lips to Fernando’s forehead. 

“Always,” He whispered as they both drifted into sleep, taking the other with them.


	13. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There are no easy answers' but there are simple answers. We must have the courage to do what we know is morally right."  
> ~Ronald Reagan~

Mark woke first. His eyes fluttered a little and it took a moment for the extra heat across his torso to be registered in his head. He turned his head to the right, looking down at Fernando in a half-asleep daze. The Spaniard had rolled away from him, having only his right arm draped across Mark’s stomach in a relaxed way. His head was also turned away and Mark wanted more than anything to turn it to face him so he could memorise those perfect features in sleep form. Mark just watched Fernando for a little while, taking in all of his mannerisms of sleep. He registered how his light breathing paused for a split second before he exhaled, the way his body rose and fell slightly as he filled and emptied his lungs of air. 

He saw, for the first time, the full tattoo on Fernando’s back. It seemed to pick up every aspect of Fernando that Mark loved best. Mark took a delicate finger and gently traced the edge of the sword from his neck down. Fernando shivered pleasantly and Mark snatched his finger away, as if burnt, panicked and afraid of waking him. He froze for a moment, but when Fernando didn’t stir he relaxed. Mark picked up the arm that was lying across him and scooted out of the bed, placing it down once he was out, moved across the room and pulled on a plain white cotton shirt. He went to head towards the bathroom, but as he took a few steps in that direction Fernando stirred. 

Fernando’s outstretched hand spread its fingers, reaching out to feel Mark, a frown slipping onto his face that Mark could see. Mark moved back over to the bed and climbed in beside him. As he did, Fernando rolled over to face him and buried his face in Mark’s chest. His right hand gripped the white material tightly as Mark draped an arm around Fernando. The foreign feel to the fabric began to rouse Fernando. He buried himself deeper into Mark, trying to fight the constant pull of reality and stay in this in between space where everything was simple. Mark registered this and looked down curiously at the man in his arms. 

“Fernando?” he muttered. Fernando sighed and unburied his face, leaning on Mark with the side and revealing himself. His eyes opened slowly and he focused on his hand that was gripped onto Mark’s shirt and battled with the thoughts in his head. 

“This is different,” Fernando said, still looking at his hand as he lifted the material from Mark to show him what he meant.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, mate.” Mark said gently. Mate. The word hit Fernando as he was lurched back to reality. He closed his eyes. Mark still looked down on him curiously, trying to read his vagueness in his seemingly relaxed position. Fernando was trying to calm his breathing, but Mark couldn’t work out why. He didn’t appear to be hyperventilating. He tried to pull him closer in his arms. 

The small movement made Fernando suddenly spring up, pushing himself from Mark. He sat in the centre of the bed with the duvet covering the half of him furthest from Mark. He hugged his knees closely to his body and looked away from Mark. Mark sat up also, going to reach out for Fernando but thought better of it. Fernando needed to work this out on his own and Mark respected that. 

“I’m going to go and freshen up,” Mark said in a soothing tone that made Fernando want to melt back into his arms. He fought himself to let him, but something kept him rooted to the spot. He settled for giving Mark a nod instead. Mark pushed himself closer to Fernando and placed a gentle, reassuring kiss on his shoulder. Fernando didn’t move, but Mark felt his body relax as the tight grip he had on his wrists slackened. Fernando had understood Mark’s message and he watched the Australian walk around the bed and turned over his shoulder to see him disappear into the bathroom.  I’ll understand whatever you do. As the door closed with a quiet click, Fernando let his body fall onto the bed, pressing his palms into his eyes. 

Why? That was the question he really wanted to answer. Why couldn’t this just been simple? Why did all of these confusing thoughts return to him? He thought he knew, thought he’d worked out what he wanted. Mark had come to him in a time of need and he had adored that. But now he couldn’t help second-guessing his own motives. Had he just come to Mark for support or had it been something more? He thrashed his limps out, punching down on the mattress in frustration. He felt to a stop, holding his arms around himself with wide eyes. He desperately wanted to think he had come for something more so he didn’t feel like he used Mark last night. But he wasn’t gay, was he? He had never felt like this for a man before… but he was with Dasha. That thought only had him covering his eyes again, trying to force away the new thoughts. He didn’t even know what he had with Dasha any more. He clutched his head with both hands, rocking himself slightly. 

Mark brushed his teeth with a slow, methodical pace. He wanted to give Fernando the time he needed, but he also wanted to run out there and hold him. Some small part of him had known, throughout the entire thing last night that this could have been a one off. He shook the thought away, focusing on the circular motion he was creating with his brush. He didn’t want that to be the case, but he had no idea how much Fernando had drunk last night. He was, of course, still with Dasha, and it could have been down to Sebastian’s stupid speech that had made Fernando seek out the company of someone who was feeling the same. He spat the toothpaste into the sink and ran a cold flannel over his face, taking a deep breath as he looked at himself in the mirror. 

He walked out of the bathroom to a sight he didn’t expect. Fernando was lying on the bed with his arms and legs straight, staring up at the ceiling. He was on top of the duvet and it looked as if he had tried, but failed, to make the bed. Mark noticed, instantly, that he was no longer bare-chested. He saw the cupboard door and draw open that Fernando must have rummaged through before finding the shirt he was now wearing on the back of a chair not far from the bed. Mark was gobsmacked that Fernando had sought out this shirt, but his reasons were logical. It had been the last shirt Mark had worn before the party. Fernando had the collar tucked up around his face. 

Fernando was wearing his Red Bull shirt. 

It looked so odd to see the man who was always clan in red surrounded by purple/blue. Mark didn’t know what to do. He shuffled his feet awkwardly in the doorway for a moment. Fernando was staring up at the ceiling with vacant eyes. That frown that Mark so hated was back, and at the sight of it, Mark moved forwards. He moved around to the side of the bed he had got out of and lied down next to Fernando, mirroring his posture. The pair just lay in silence, both looking up as if they had decided to watch clouds pass above their heads. After a short while, Mark turned to look at Fernando who was still frowning. 

He was desperate to get rid of that expression. He hated it. Despised it every time it appeared to corrupt Fernando’s features. He considered taking a hand and brushing it over Fernando’s face, but he thought the invasion of that thought would have bad ramifications. The look was shutting Mark off and he needed to feel close to Fernando. It was as if he was already slipping away. Without much thought about the action, he gently brushed his right fingertips down Fernando’s left wrist, bringing their palms together and entwining their fingers together. Mark turned back to look at the ceiling, his eyes closed in a wince as he waited for his hand to be thrown back at him and for Fernando to stalk out. But it didn’t happen. Mark opened his eyes tentatively and looked over at Fernando. A smile crashed onto his face as he turned his head back to the ceiling and sighed contently. 

The frown had evaporated from Fernando’s face and a small smile was residing. 

\- - -

Fernando was swimming hard. He had thrown himself into training in a sorry attempt to push all of his thoughts to the back of his mind. It hadn’t worked. His mind was still wondering as he pushed effortlessly through the water. He had left Mark’s shortly after they had awoke and returned to his own room, grabbing his swimming stuff and heading for the pool. He hadn’t even stopped noticed Dasha wasn’t in the room. Too preoccupied in his own thoughts he had darted from the room. And he hadn’t stopped until now. An hour he had been swimming up and down the length of the pool. He wasn’t tired per say, but he was relenting on the fight in his head and just let the thoughts roll over him. He rested his elbows on the edge of the pool and placed his chin on the cross of his arms; letting his feet float out behind him. 

Dasha had assumed he had gone training seeing he wasn’t in there room, and after checking the gym and having no success, she was checking the pool before she decided he had gone for a run. She asked the pool attendant if Fernando had come in and he said yes. She moved into the changing room to change and emerged in a purple halter neck bikini. She spotted Fernando at the other end of the pool and made her way towards him. He didn’t turn as the water rippled around him harder lost in his deep thoughts. Dasha noticed that the frown was back on his face and she sighed disappointingly. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her face into his back. 

Fernando was startled by the sudden presents of someone else and pulled himself back to the present and out of his thoughts. He turned his head and looked down at Dasha, who had closed her eyes trying to get close to him. He turned himself around so they were facing each other, his hands falling to her waist. She opened her eyes and was relieved to see the frown had gone. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” He said with a small smile on his face. She tried to pull herself closer to him but he kept her away with his hands. 

“I was looking for you,” She said, reflecting his smile. 

“Sorry, I should have said,” He muttered, looking suddenly distracted. Dasha was determined to keep his attention. She placed a hand on his cheek.

“No matter. I’ve found you now,” She smiled. Fernando didn’t react to her hand on his face. He was using her presents to try and answer the biggest question in his head. He felt nothing, though, and a small part of his head wished it were Mark’s.

“So, where did you disappear to last night?” He asked innocently. But Dasha went defensive and it made him feel she was trying to cover something up. Her tone went from relaxed to sharp in a heartbeat. 

“I didn’t disappear anywhere. You’re the one who went somewhere, abandoning me as soon as we got through the door,”

“I went to find Ferrari people, sorry if I didn’t want to stand around pretending all evening,” His hands fell from her waist and he lent back against the pool wall. Dasha folded her arms. They were arguing in hushed, angry tones as to not attract attention to themselves from the other swimmers. 

“You shouldn’t have been pretending!”

“Dash, I told you not to make me go. It was never going to be any other way!” Anger was rising in him. 

“You had to go to be gracious. If I’d have known you were going to disappear all night I would have told you to stay here!”

“I was gracious. He had the faster car, meaning he won and I have accepted that. But I didn’t need to go to have it rubbed in my face!” 

“He didn’t rub it in your face!” 

“So what was his ‘thank-you’ speech? A post card?” Sarcasm dripped from his words, which consequently sparked more anger in Dasha. 

“He was being genuine! You really have made him work for his titles!” 

“Dasha he was being a prick. He was rubbing it in my face and trying to humiliate me in front of the whole building,”

“You’re being very cynical,” She spat. Fernando just glared at her. 

“I didn’t realise you were his girlfriend,” He shot back. Dasha blushed rapidly with tears brewing in her eyes. 

“I’m not his girlfriend, I'm yours and you should understand-”

“You’ve spent one night with him and he’s brainwashed you! I thought you supported me? What happened to that loyalty lecture you gave me a few weeks ago?” She glared down at the rippling water, not looking up at Fernando.

“I support you when you’re right,” she muttered. “When you’re wrong I'm going to tell you,”

“So I’m wrong? You’re supporting Sebastian in this?” There was a pause. Finally Dasha looked up at him. 

“Yes.” She said. The tears fell down her face as Fernando pulled himself out of the pool and walked away, leaving her alone. He didn’t turn back to her as he entered the changing room. Finally something was clear in his head and he didn’t have time to waste hearing her ‘amazing Vettel’ speech. 

\- - -

“Fernando?” Mark said, confused as the man stormed into his room. His hair was still wet from the pool and a frown of annoyance was on his face. “Thought I wasn’t seeing you until Dhabi,” Mark tired to joke, but it fell flat. Fernando spun around to look at him. 

“We need to talk,” He said, glaring at a spot just to the left of Mark’s head. 

“Are you angry with me?” Mark queried cautiously, wanting to make sure he hadn’t done anything without realising. Fernando’s anger deflated at the question. 

“No, not you,” he said softly, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck, looking down. 

“Dasha?” 

“She’s… I don’t know how to… It’s complicated… I just feel like… Gah!” Fernando fell onto the sofa behind him and pressed his hands over his eyes. Mark moved swiftly beside him and took his hands from his face, placing one of his own to cup Fernando’s face. Fernando swallowed and looked up at Mark. 

“She’s not for me,” Fernando finished. Mark desperately tried to force away the glee that was rushing through him. That didn’t mean anything. Fernando could still go another way. 

“So what are you saying?” Mark asked fighting to keep and even tone. Fernando studied Mark’s face, trying to read something in his eyes. It was all too easy to see the joy there, the way it danced through his irises. Mark had always been like an open book to him and he wondered vaguely if this was just with him or just how Mark was with everyone. 

“I’m saying…” Fernando couldn’t find the words. He pushed into Mark’s hold of his face and watched for a change in Mark’s expression, letting him know he understood. But it didn’t change. Fernando could see Mark was holding back the feeling. Fernando wasn’t being clear enough. He pushed both of his hands into Mark’s hair and pulled his face down to his, closing the gap with a kiss. Fernando waited for Mark to understand and finally passion beyond anything Fernando expected was emitting off of the Australian. He let himself smile as Mark moved his body on top of him, holding his weight off him with his arms. This was where he wanted to be.

And Fernando was relieved he had finally cleared the storm that was in his head. 

\- - -

Dasha wasn’t coming to Abu Dhabi as she had a job elsewhere. Fernando hadn’t really paid attention when she told him and didn’t really care to find out now. He had managed to avoid her as he packed and left her alone to check out of the hotel. He was more excited to reach the airport. Mark and he were on the same flight to Abu Dhabi and he was anticipating the three hours flight of being with Mark. It wasn’t the first time they had shared a flight, but it was the first time since they understood each other. And that fact made Fernando’s skin tingle excitedly. 

Unfortunately though, just after being in the air for half an hour, Fernando had fallen asleep. His head was resting on the window, his neck exposed from his shirt. Mark had been reading a book; with the aeroplane headphones on listening to whatever music they were playing absent-mindedly. He was letting Fernando sleep because he knew the Spaniard probably hadn’t got much over the past few weeks with all of these things looming over his head and it was probably a relief to be able to fall out of reality with nothing holding you back. He also liked the fact he could watch the small movements of his face as moments of his dream was aired for him to see. 

The sun shone brightly through the window and caught the tanned skin of Fernando’s neck, making it glisten like caramel. The olive glow of his skin made Mark want to reach over and taste the skin of his neck, placing gentle kisses over the man beside him. But he didn’t; there were too many people around. Mark’s hand gently brushed the mark Fernando had left on his neck last night and he smiled, letting his memories flood through him. He had turned his collar up on his shirt to hide it from prying eyes but he wished he could show it to the world, letting them know what was really there between the two of them. He found himself simply staring at Fernando, his book closed on his lap, a sense of unbelievable joy filling him as he realised what they now had. Fernando awoke about an hour before they landed to see Mark staring at him with his loving, hazel eyes. A soft smile prickled at his lips as he pushed himself back upright, rubbing his neck. 

“Were you watching me?” Fernando joked in a quiet voice. Mark blushed as he turned back to his book. 

“Hard not to,” he muttered, not looking over at the awakening Spaniard to his left. 

“I think that’s unfair,” Fernando commented, making Mark look over at him, confused. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you took advantage whilst I was asleep and I missed out,” Fernando looked over at him. “You should have woke me,”

“You needed your beauty sleep, Princess,” Mark joked returning to his book. “You’ve been looking a state the last few weeks,” Fernando pushed Mark’s book closed and the Australian looked at him, smirking. 

“I am not Nico, I do not need beauty sleep,” Fernando muttered.

“Not anymore, no,” Mark commented. He tried to return to his book but Fernando’s hand stayed in place. He swallowed deeply, focusing on the back of the chair in front of him as he felt the Spaniard’s hot breath tickling his ear. 

“If sleep bring you beauty you would never need it… last night…” Fernando purred quietly in Mark’s ear giving a soft moan at the end. Mark turned to see Fernando giving him a lustful look. He licked his lips subtly, but before Mark could move anymore Fernando was back in his own seat, looking out the window as if nothing had happened. 

“Tease,” Mark chuckled, not daring to move his book from his lap. He heard Fernando’s laugh emit from his left. 

The rest of the journey was pretty uneventful and the two drivers travelled together to their hotel. What was hurting Mark the most was that he couldn’t be open with Fernando in public. They had both decided it wasn’t worth the hassle and caught up in the honeymoon period of their relationship, neither of them wanted to call it what it was until they were certain this would be long term. They both checked into separate hotel rooms and unpacked. But this didn’t stop Fernando coming into Mark’s room that night to fall asleep in each other’s arms watching the stars from the balcony…

\- - - - -

Mark had dragged Fernando out of the hotel very early in the morning to much protest. Fernando was moaning about wanting to sleep until Mark kindly reminded him that he had had extra sleep on the plane. Fernando had fallen silent after that. Mark had driven them both down to a secluded section of the beach he had remembered finding last year. No on really came down here, especially not at half five in the morning. Fernando stood with his arms folded across his chest in an attempt to fight off the cold as Mark pulled out the blankets he had brought the day before. With no one around their hands linked without consideration as Mark lead Fernando onto the sand. 

“Mark, why are we here?” Fernando asked as Mark let him go to lie out one of the blankets on the floor. He left the second in Fernando’s arms. 

“I wanted you to see something,” Mark said, focusing on what he was doing. He peered over his shoulder to see Fernando looking around the small beach with a confused expression. He laughed to himself as he flattened out the pile of sand under the middle of the blanket. 

“There is nothing here to see,” Fernando concluded, looking back down at Mark. 

“Just be patient, you’ll see,” Mark patted the blanket beside him and Fernando moved so they were lying together, dropping the blanket as he did. The moment was so peaceful and perfect Mark sighed contently as he wrapped his arm around Fernando’s shoulder. He was trying to relax, letting the gentle ebb of the sea and the cool breeze surround him, but Fernando was making it very difficult to forget himself as he wouldn’t stop fidgeting. Mark looked down at him. 

“You alright, mate?” He said as Fernando exasperated in an annoyed manner. He sat up, folding his arms.

“I’m cold,” he huffed and Mark just laughed at him, falling back down into the sand and placing one hand behind his head. 

“I told you to change,” He said to the sky. Fernando glanced down at the white round neck shirt and purple/blue pyjamas around his legs. He looked back over to Mark, still in his stubborn posture. 

“You didn’t give me time,” He stated. Mark still smiled to himself, looking up at the sky. 

“I told you to get up and you hid under the duvet for half hour. You could have spent that half hour getting dressed,” 

“Because it’s early!”

“Don’t start on that again,” Mark sighed pushing himself up so he was sitting in front of Fernando. “It has to be early and you will appreciate it so stop moaning,” Fernando fell silent and looked over to Mark. After a few minutes of just the natural soundtrack playing, Fernando spoke again. 

“Still cold,” He muttered. Mark rolled his eyes and smiled over at Fernando. He slipped out of his own hoodie and threw it over to Fernando who gratefully pulled it on. That was what he really wanted. Fernando smiled as he buried his face in the folds of the too big material and inhaled Mark’s smell. He felt light-headed as he opened his eyes to see Mark giving him a knowing look. That smirk still painted on his face. Fernando blushed. 

“Come here,” Mark sighed happily as Fernando curved into his hold. Mark grabbed the remaining blanket and wrapped it around them both, rubbing his arms up and down Fernando’s to generate some warmth. “Better?” Fernando sighed his yes happily as he snuggled closer to Mark. Mark placed a gentle kiss on Fernando’s temple as they lay with each other. 

Mark coaxed Fernando to look up as the sun appeared above the line of the horizon. Fernando’s eyes fell wide with wonder as he pushed himself up to get a better view, bringing Mark with him. Mark tightened his hold of Fernando as he watched the wonder in his eyes. The whole scene was truly spectacular. They were both silently taking in the sunrise and each other. Fernando greeted the slow progression on movement as an old friend he hadn’t seen for a long time. He never wanted this moment to end. Everything was perfect and at one with the world. But he knew all too well that it would soon be over and the new day would begin. As the whole of the sun was finally visible and spreading the most amazing reflections in the sea and colours in the sky, Fernando turned to Mark.

“Thank you,” He whispered, resting their foreheads together and cupping Mark’s cheek. Mark smiled wider than he already was. 

“That’s alright, mate,” He said back, opening his eyes to look in Fernando’s. Fernando looked back into his with a loving glow and closed the gap between them, creating the most intimate kiss they had ever shared and making both of them never wanting this moment to end. 

\- - -

Dasha had lied to Fernando. She didn’t feel good about doing it, but he was so vague with her now she wasn’t even sure if he cared. Though that fact didn't stop her feeling very much like a traitor as she entered the hotel in Abu Dhabi that wasn’t the one he was staying in. She knew where she was going, but she didn’t feel good about it. But she had no other choice. She couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. 

She knocked on the room door and instantly felt she shouldn’t be here. She wanted to run away, but she couldn’t. His face greeted her without words in a knowing expression. He had expected her; she wanted to talk to him. All of her thoughts of running away disappeared as she crossed the threshold of Sebastian’s room, shutting the door behind her.


	14. Discovered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We cannot teach people anything; we can only help them discover it within themselves.”  
> ~Galileo Galilei~

He wanted to see Fernando again. It hadn’t been long; they had seen each other just before they left the hotel this morning. But Fernando was going to be in Press Conferences and PR stuff all day and there wasn’t going to be a chance to see him again until that evening. Mark was slouching down the paddock, aimlessly wandering as he, again, had time to kill. He had had a fleeting thought to go and surprise Fernando: find out where one of his conferences was and meet him outside. But he had changed his mind pretty quick; he was supposed to be being subtle. But every time he saw him that feeling fluttered in his stomach and it took all his will power not to run over and kiss him, not caring who saw. 

“Geese, you look happy,” Jenson had seen Mark pass the McLaren Motor Home for the fourth time, as he was bored waiting around himself. He caught up to him. Mark didn’t turn to him but began to chew on the inside of his cheek as if considering something. Jenson pushed his hands into his pockets and walked beside Mark. “Do you want to go and get food? I’m hungry,”

“Thanks, but I’m all right,” Mark sighed, trying to give Jenson a subtle hint to leave him alone. Jenson may have registered it, Mark didn’t know, but if he had he was ignoring it. 

“OK then, come with me so I don’t feel lonely,” 

“Seriously, its fine.” Jenson put his hand on Mark’s shoulder and turned him to face him, leaving his other still casually in his pocket. 

“Have you got anything better to be doing?” Jenson questioned, already knowing the answer. Mark forced his eyes not to slide over and focus on the red building behind the man holding his shoulder. 

“Yes,” Mark lied. Jenson gave him a perceptive look. 

“That’s why you’ve been pacing up and down the paddock for the last twenty minutes,” Jenson finished sarcastically feeling smug. Mark sighed defeated. 

“I really don’t need you trying to pick me up, mate, I’m fine,” Mark tried to shrug off Jenson’s shoulder but the Brit remained his tight hold. Mark forced a smile onto his face, which evoked a confused frown on Jenson’s. Mark mused the fact that he was starting to make Fernando’s ‘I’m fine’ catchphrase his own but shook the though thoroughly from his mind. He couldn’t afford to think about Fernando with Jenson trying to read him. 

“Fine, I won’t. But you’re still coming with me. I don’t like the idea of being tackled by fans on my own and with you around, they’re more likely to pick on you,” Jenson shrugged, turning his hold on Mark’s shoulder to a pat. They headed off down the paddock. 

“You’re quite popular over here,” Mark added as they left the track, heading down a street into the town. Neither of them were needed for any PR stuff until after lunch. 

“Yeah, but I’ll be back next year,” Jenson said with a glance at Mark. It was odd to Mark that everyone kept bringing it up. With all this Fernando stuff the prospect of each race being his last had slipped his mind. He shrugged. 

“So that makes everyone desperate to see me?” Mark joked. Jenson rolled his eyes. 

“Well they’re all just realising what they’ve been missing. I’m surprised you didn’t get teams offering you a seat,” 

“Yeah, but I turned them all down,” Mark continued his joking tone and feigned an arrogant air to his voice. “Not big enough,” 

“And not red,” Jenson couldn’t resist. He saw Mark’s smile falter slightly and the confused frown returned to his face. Mark wasn’t saying anything, and as the silence ebbed around them, Jenson noticed Mark was chewing on his cheek absent-mindedly again. 

\- - -

The press conference wasn’t going too badly. Everyone was more interested on talking to Sebastian about his World Championship than talking to him. He had got riled when the media asked him  again  how his relationship was with Ferrari. When was everyone going to let that go?

\- Fernando, how has your relationship evolved with the team? - 

As I said last week and the week before that, the relationship is fantastic. I assume you will be asking me the same question next race in Austin and I will say again, fantastic. 

\- The question was about the evolution of that relationship. How has it changed over the season? - 

It was perfect, it is perfect and it will be perfect. 

After that the press had basically left him alone. 

He was letting his mind wander to Mark. Just thinking about him made his body relax. It was refreshing to feel like this again; he had become so complacent with Dasha and it was nice to feel the thrill of the honeymoon period of a relationship. He was wondering what Mark would be doing right now. He wondered if he had his own conferences to be doing. Maybe he was getting a massage. Fernando pushed that thought from his head. The idea of another man, even if it was his physio therapist, running there hands over his Mark made him shiver unpleasantly. He fantasised that maybe Mark would wait for him outside the Press Centre and they could go off alone. Fernando liked that idea. The secrecy of their relationship made him feel like they were doing something inhibited and it sparked a rebellious adrenaline in him that he loved. 

“You might want to pay attention; it would be embarrassing for you if they asked you a question and you had to ask them to repeat,” Sebastian had leant over close to Fernando to whisper in his ear. Fernando kept looking forwards, being ripped away from his fantasies about Mark. “Wouldn’t want something else embarrassing happening to you,” Fernando could hear he was trying to subtly convey a message in his tone and assumed he was hinting at the lift incident. 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply,” Fernando murmured back, turning his attention to the German. 

“First the lift, then being beaten  again  by me in the World Championship and now your problems with Dasha…” Sebastian locked eyes with Fernando but the Spaniard had an emotionless mask on that was not penetrable. 

“Dasha and I don’t have any problems,” Fernando muttered, turning back to face the press. They were questioning Valtteri. 

“Not what she thinks,” Sebastian added. Fernando turned back to him. 

“I know what you’re trying to do, Sebastian, but it will not work. Dasha and I are fine. Ferrari and I are fine. I am fine with everyone I know so you have no one to use against me to try and prove your superiority, which does not exist,” Fernando watched Sebastian’s eyes and registered the flicker of anger that was dancing there. Good. Now Sebastian knew he and Fernando were on the same page. Fernando turned back to the press. 

“Even Mark?” Sebastian was trying to keep the sly tone to his voice, but Fernando picked up on the plea of hope that was decorating the edges. He smirked as he looked back at Seb, registering this plea in his eyes as well. 

“Smile so the press don’t think we’re arguing,” To his surprise, Sebastian did. Fernando had won this one. But as he turned back to the faces looking towards him worry dropped in his stomach. What problems could Dasha have possible told Sebastian about?

\- - -

They didn’t end up going for food; Jenson had eaten in the McLaren Motor Home and Mark just wasn’t hungry. Instead, they found a pub and had settled with a drink and a chat. Mark was very careful with his words, knowing how easy it was for him to be open with Jenson. He managed to successfully block all three of Jenson’s attempts to subtly bring up Fernando. He knew the Brit suspected the reason behind his strange mood was Fernando and it worried Mark how easily Jenson could read him. Maybe he was just a very open person. No. He would have to be more closed off. Jenson couldn’t know. 

Jenson was now rambling on about some unknown topic Mark wasn’t honestly sure of. It could have been anything. His attention had diverted as he considered if it was part of being British to be able to ramble about the most random shit so much. His thoughts had taken him to Fernando, unsurprisingly. The way he could take the simplest English words and make them seem to mean so much more. He liked to think that everything Fernando said had a double meaning. ‘English and Spanish meaning’ he liked to call it. The English meaning being the simple, definitive one that Mark could understand. But the Spanish one intrigued him more. A second meaning to Fernando’s words that couldn’t be known. Just there to captivate any listener and make them never want to stop listening. And every time Fernando spoke, he never failed to captivate Mark. He would be there hanging onto every words as if-

“MARK!” Jenson’s voice broke his thought and he focused his eyes back on Jenson’s face. He tried to give him a small smile, but Jenson’s face was fixed. No more avoiding could be done. “What the hell is up with you today?” Mark ran his finger around the brim of his nearly empty glass, looking down.

“Nothing, it’s… nothing,” 

“It’s not. You were sulking around earlier and just now you were sitting there glowing with admiration – and I know that wasn’t aimed at me,” Mark looked over at Jenson trying to work out if he was making a joke. The look on Jenson’s face confirmed he wasn’t. Mark looked down again.

“Really, Jense, I’m fi-” 

“-Stop lying to me,” Jenson exasperated taking a long drink from his glass. He set it down. “Mark, we’re close friends and I know you were having some difficulties with Fernan-”

“-Are we done here?” Mark cut in, pushing himself onto his feet. He wasn’t going to get into this with Jenson. After all the help he gave him before – which was no help – he didn’t know if he wanted to enlist Jenson’s wisdom into this one. He was happy with Fernando and they had both agreed to keep this quiet. Jenson was not going to be told. Mark would keep his word to Fernando. It was important seeing as he had let slip to Sebastian about the lifts… 

Mark was waiting outside the pub for Jenson to follow him. As soon as he saw the Brit emerging through the door he pushed his hands deep into his pockets and walked back towards the track. Jenson caught up to him easily and fell into step beside him. 

“Alright, no more questions. Just tell me that if you need any help you will come to me? I can’t imagine that kind of unhelpful advice the others could provide…”

“Yes, you’re last batch was a bundle of helpfulness,” 

“More helpful than anything Kimi could have given,” Jenson added. Mark thought back to it and realised that it had been Alice’s help that was most useful. He had almost completely forgotten about the Ferrari waitress and made a mental note to go and thank her. 

“Yes, Jense, I will come to you,” Mark lied easily. Jenson was the second person he would go to, failing to track down Alice. Jenson smiled and they walked in silence back to the track. A thousand questions burned on Jenson’s lips but he kept them there. Mark seemed very temperamental at the moment and he was worried one wrong question would leave him in the Australian’s wake. As they both buzzed back into the track there attention fell to the six men coming out of the Press Centre. Mark shuffled slightly with his feet, not sure whether to stop or continue walking. Jenson picked up on his sudden hesitation as the Ferrari driver came into clear view, putting on his sunglasses. 

Fernando saw Mark and Jenson and immediately felt his face light up. He was slightly disappointed to see Mark looking at the floor and he paused in his action of putting on his sunglasses. His eyes drifted to Jenson who was frowning over at Mark. Fernando had the urge to call over to him to get his attention, but when Jenson’s eyes fell on him, he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. 

Jenson saw the small frown of confusion on Fernando’s face before it changed into his normal smile. But he had stopped putting on his sunglasses. Fernando was known well to be the only driver – apart from Kimi – who wore his sunglasses whenever humanly possible. So why had he stopped? He looked back over to Mark to see him wearing that look of admiration he had had when he was in the pub. Jenson followed his gaze and saw Fernando returning a very similar look. His glasses were still in his hand. He was glowing. And so was Mark. Both of them. Grinning stupidly at each other. As if there were looking upon-

“Oh my god.” Jenson muttered with wide eyes. Mark had forgotten he was there and the sound of his voice made Mark snap his head to the right, blushing. Jenson’s eyes had glazed over, focused on a spot in the distance. Shit. And Jenson’s mouth was forming a perfect ‘o’. Shit. And Jenson was now looking at Mark. Shit. And now Mark could see the realisation forming on his face. Jenson gasped. 

“We need to talk. Now.” Mark caught Jenson’s arm and ushered him away from the scene, diving between two motor homes and taking him round the back of the paddock. Fernando just watched them disappear with a small frown on his face. He didn’t like that. Jenson and Mark disappearing together. He made to follow them. 

“Jealous?” A sly voice purred in his ear. Fernando turned to see Sebastian standing just behind him. A smug grin was plastered on the German’s face and Fernando felt as if his small victory in the press conference was insignificant. He pushed his sunglasses on his face and turned away from where Jenson and Mark had gone, heading for the Ferrari Motor Home. Sebastian was shocked. He was right?

“Woah, hold on,” Sebastian jogged to catch the Spaniard and stood in front of him, placing a hand on his arm. “You are.” True shock was in Sebastian’s voice and Fernando openly rolled his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. 

“Don’t know what you are talking about,” Fernando said, pushing past Seb. This didn’t stop him. Before Fernando realised what was happening, Sebastian had gripped his arm and dragged him back into the Press Centre. Fernando had caught a transient glance of another man approaching in a red shirt before he was whisked away and pulled into an interview room. Sebastian slid the sign to ‘occupied’ before putting a chair under the door handle and turning on Fernando. Fernando folded his arms. 

“Mark and you?” His eyes were wide in shock. Fernando remained emotionless. “I mean,  Mark? ” Sebastian fell into another chair that had been set opposite the first one he moved. With him distracted, Fernando shuffled awkwardly on his feet. How was he getting out of this one? Sebastian looked back over at him. “Not really much of a looker, is he,” Fernando knew Sebastian was fighting for a response. He kept his arms folded, determined to fight against his instinct of protecting Mark. He just stared at the door. 

“Why have you locked me in?” Fernando asked, his eyes falling on the chair under the door handle. Sebastian was unfazed by Fernando’s attempt at changing the subject. He got up and stood in front of the Spaniard. 

“Formality. So, what, are you together now?” Fernando looked into Sebastian’s eyes. It annoyed him that the man standing in front of him was taller than him, if only slightly, and younger. It made him look up just a bit when talking to him. It gave him some kind of natural higher power. Fernando didn’t like it; Sebastian should be looking up to him. But still he remained silent. Sebastian moved closer to him. “Have you… you know…” Fernando got that Sebastian was implying sex, but he still didn’t answer. He could see his silence was annoying the German but he kept the smirk of satisfaction from his face, knowing Sebastian would read it wrong. Sebastian just stared intently at his sunglass-covered eyes. “Imagine what Dasha would say if she found out about this…”

The knock on the door made both men turn. Sebastian was frustrated, but Fernando was relieved. 

“Fernando? Are you in there?” More relief washed through him as he recognised his teammate’s voice. He saw the handle hit the top of the chair as Felipe tried to let himself in. The thud told them the Brazilian had thrown his weight into the door. “Hey! Are you OK? Why can’t I get in?” Fernando moved forwards and removed the chair from in front of the door, pushing it across the floor and into Sebastian. He opened the door and smiled at Felipe.

“It’s all right, nothing happening,” Fernando said with a glance over his shoulder at Sebastian. He walked out with Felipe leaving Sebastian standing alone. 

“I saw him drag you in and though, for sure, that’s not right,” Felipe explained as they walked down the paddock. Fernando smiled over at him; he would miss Felipe’s care next year. He clapped him gently on the shoulder. 

“It was alright, thanks though, I didn’t want to talk to him,” 

“For sure, this is what I think,” Felipe said as Fernando let go of his shoulder. Just before the pair entered the Ferrari Motor Home, Fernando saw Jenson appear from between the row of motor homes further up the paddock. He caught Jenson’s eye briefly before turning away, blushing, and diving into the Motor Home. The few strides Fernando saw Jenson take in his direction combined with that facial expression of fury was enough to make any man cower in fear. He made a mental note to avoid the Brit as he and Felipe headed inside.

\- 

Jenson was still gaping at Mark when he released his arm, safely hidden behind the Motor homes. He waited for Jenson to form a coherent sentence. Jenson’s focus slowly slid onto Mark and the Australian folded his arms. Jenson finally found his voice.

“Explain,” Mark’s stomach dropped. How much did he want to know? He shook his head. 

“How about you ask me a question and I’ll give you the answer,” Mark suggested.

“You won’t lie?” Mark was a little hurt by the accusation, but seeing what had just happened, he sort of expected it. 

“Promise, mate,” he exasperated, running a hand through his hair. Jenson looked at him briefly before hunching his shoulders forwards and pushing his hands in his pockets, looking down awkwardly. 

“OK… So… Fernando and you… Have you…?” Jenson looked up expecting Mark to understand the end of the question without actually saying it. Mark couldn’t. There were too many possible ends to Jenson’s question and he needed him to be more specific. 

“You?” Mark encouraged and Jenson took a deep breath. 

“Like… Talked about this? What happened? How did this start?” Finding some confidence in himself, Jenson piled out a stream of questions. Mark explained about what had happened between Fernando and him at the party and stopped his story at when he found Fernando in his hotel room. Jenson didn’t need all the details and some things were just for him. He had left out Alice; knowing that if Jenson knew he had taken someone else’s advice it would hurt him and it wasn’t worth it. 

“He was in your room?” Jenson asked with little confusion on his face. He wasn’t upset or angry. Right now, he was over-the-moon happy. Just seeing the way Mark talked about the Spaniard was enough to catch anyone up in his ‘soppy romantic’ mood. Jenson could feel it emitting off him and was glad that Mark had something good going in his life. When Mark nodded in answer to Jenson’s question, he cocked his eyebrow knowingly. “I don’t think I want to know anymore about the first night,” Jenson smirked, and seeing Mark blush a rapid red confirmed he was right. “So what are you doing standing here with me? Get your arse over there,” Jenson smiled, giving Mark a little push towards the red building. But Mark’s expression changed and Jenson stopped, confused. 

“It’s not quite as simple as that,” Mark said, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck.

“How can it not be that simple? Have I missed something? You are together, right?” 

“I’m not sure…” Mark was glad to be able to finally put his worries out in the air. He just needed someone to tell him he was reading the situation wrong. Just needed someone to tell him he was being stupid. Just needed someone who was outside the ‘relationship’ to tell him it was a relationship. 

“How can you not be sure?” Mark looked up at Jenson as he answered. 

“He’s still with Dasha,” The shock on Jenson’s face made Mark realise Jenson was not going to be the person to make him feel better. Jenson was going to see this the same way as him. He had an urge to go and try to track down Alice. 

“Why?” Jenson’s tone was now outraged and Mark was a little confused as to why Jenson was taking this so personally. 

“He said that he didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention and a break up with Dasha was bound to make big news and start speculation. I agreed. I can see his point; I don’t want cameras in our face, I just want it to be us. But I can’t shake the feeling that I feel like I'm sharing. That I’m putting in one hundred per cent and he’s only half-arsed. But I’m over thinking this, right? I’m being stupid because he’s not really with Dasha; it’s just a cover up so we don’t get swamped. He’s doing this for us. Us. Not him… Right?” Jenson could see Mark just needed confirmation, but he couldn’t provide it. Instead, he left Mark standing there and headed between the next gap between Motor Homes. “Where are you going?”

“Going to explain a few things to you’re boyfriend!” Jenson called as he disappeared. Mark was momentarily stumped. Boyfriend? The word filled him with an uncontrollable joy. Fernando was his boyfriend. He’d never said the word himself, but thinking about it… That was what this was. As he grinned up at the vacant space Jenson had recently filled, the urge to defend his boyfriend burned strong in him and he ran after the Brit. He caught Jenson’s arm easily. 

“Leave it,” Mark warned, but Jenson shook off his hand. 

“No, why should I? He needs to understand-”

“-Try and see it from his side. I’ve been OK with this for years but he’s only just starting to come to terms with it. He does understand and he just doesn’t want the attention whilst he settles with this. You saw what the press did when they found out about me…” Jenson thought back to that dreaded six page spread of Mark’s opinion of the entire grid and some wanker of a journalist had manipulated his innocent words to try and find out who it was on the grid he had left Ann for. Obviously, the result had come out highest at Fernando, which at the time had been a huge worry for Mark. He didn’t want his discovery to ruin his friendship with the Spaniard but Fernando had just come to him and told him he didn’t care. When Fernando announced his split from Raquel around the time of Mark coming out, the media had gone nuts. It had been a major stress for both of them and Jenson had to council Mark many a time that this was not going to ruin their friendship. After it all died down it appeared that their friendship was stronger than ever. That was when Jenson had started getting the impression Mark felt a little bit more for Fernando that just friendship. 

And Jenson knew Mark was right. If the press found out about this, they would go nuts. It still didn’t stop him from being annoyed at Fernando; Mark was finally getting everything he deserved but he still wasn’t allowed to shout about it. Jenson sighed and nodded at Mark, letting him know he would leave it. Mark gave him a thankful pat on the shoulder. 

“Well, this is weird,” Jenson stated, making Mark exasperate a relief-filled laugh. “Seriously! Now every time I see you come to the track together I'm going to think…”

“Blimey, mate, we’re not animals,” Mark laughed with more relief flowing through him as Jenson smiled. Jenson understood. And best of all: he didn’t hate Mark for not telling him. 

“Not yet,” Jenson added with a wink that made Mark shove him playfully. 

\- - -

Today was defiantly looking better.  Mark mused to himself as he walked into his room in the Motor Home. He looked down at his phone as he perched on the edge of his bed to see eleven unread texts from Fernando. He frowned down at the little screen before unlocking it. Just from reading the beginning of the first text Mark knew Fernando was panicking. He’s reading was cut short when his door opened and he locked the phone turning his attention to the man who had just walked in: Sebastian. 

“Well well well…” Sebastian tutted as he walked in, folding his arms and fixing that smirk firmly on his face. Mark swallowed, unsure of where this was going. “Haven’t I learnt a lot about you today…” Sebastian’s tone was scaring Mark. It was dark and knowing mixed with joyous and insane. He didn’t like it. Sebastian had his face very much too close. He was staring deep into Mark’s eyes and could see the panic beginning to grow there. Just what he was after. “Where exactly was it you disappeared to between Japan and India?”

“I told you. I was in England,” Mark fought to keep his voice even but Sebastian was seeing right through it. 

“And so that’s how your little friend in red knows exactly what I'm trying to do?” Mark froze. There was no way- “If you’re going to do something I don’t like, Mark, make sure he doesn’t go around telling everyone,”

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“-Don’t FUCKING LIE!” White rage flashed through Sebastian as he kicked into a small table with water on it, which toppled over smashing the glass jug on the ground. Mark was petrified. He had never seen Seb this mad and he was scared of what he might do. Sebastian advanced on Mark. “No more lies, Mark, or the end of the season will be very unpleasant indeed.” Mark swallowed deeply. Part of him wanted to stand up against him but the other wanted to coward away. He found his voice. 

“You’ve got nothing, and now you know that. So why don’t you run off to Daddy and stop breaking my things,” Mark stated calmly. Sebastian brought his face closer, too close for comfort. The rage was still clear in his eyes but his face had taken on a twisted expression. Mark tried to hide his fear. 

“I’ve still got the team. I knew you’d gone to Spain to talk to him. Your lie got you your last DNF.” Sebastian was too serious to be lying. And it made sense. The fixing of Seb’s car but not his. The ignored radio message about the problem. Seb’s awareness of Mark stopping without even seeing him. Seb had set it up. Seb had set up his car failure in India. All because he had gone and talked to Fernando in Spain. And the cowering part of Mark won the fight for power. Fear shone in his eyes. 

“What do you want?” Mark said quietly. 

“You’re going to help me or this will not end well for him,”

“It’s not going to end well for him anyway if I help you,” Mark muttered. The sudden clasping of his collar made him gasp and Sebastian drew his face closer still.

“Don’t try and play shit with me, Mark. You’ve got too much to loose now,” Mark frowned and Sebastian’s deranged grin grew wider. “If you want to keep a secret relationship secret don’t go googly eyed at each other across the paddock,” Mark’s stomach dropped as he realised Sebastian knew about Fernando and him. He tried to pull Sebastian’s hands from his shirt but the German was gripping too tightly. 

“I won’t help you. Not against him,” 

“Well that’s a shame.” Sebastian let go of Mark’s shirt and he fell back onto the bed. He headed out of the room and Mark pushed himself up on his elbow to make sure he really had left. Just before he opened the door, Sebastian turned around to look at Mark. “It’s pitiful really. Here you are, defending him to the end of the world but he couldn’t even spare one word for you.” And he left, knowing he had planted a perfect seed of doubt in Mark’s mind. Yes, Mark would help him. But he wouldn’t even know he was doing it…

\- - -

Dasha called twice but Fernando rejected them both. He didn’t want to talk to her. He didn’t need to talk to her. It was too much and now Sebastian knew as well. He paced his little room, looking for some kind of answer. This was not a good start to the weekend. 

\- - -

Mark had his back to the hotel room door, so it was only the sound of it opening and closing that told him he wasn’t alone anymore. He knew it was Fernando without turning away from what he was sorting on the bed; they had both got an extra key card for their rooms so they could both go in and out without a hassle. They had ended up spending most of their time in Mark’s room though. When he didn’t feel Fernando’s arms around him – which was normally how they greeted each other – he turned to see him standing awkwardly a few metres away from him, staring at the floor. Mark too a tentative step toward him and he spoke. 

“People know,” His dread-filled tone cut through Mark’s heart and he pulled Fernando into his arms. Fernando’s breathing was messed up, but he wasn’t crying: he was panicked. 

“It’s alright, Fer, I know,” Mark rubbed circles into Fernando’s back but he pushed away to look into Mark’s eyes. 

“You know?” The panic was clear in his voice now. Mark nodded and Fernando started to pace. The Australian sat himself on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around the bedpost at the foot of the bed, and watched him. “Great… that’s just… Great!”

“Calm down, mate, it will be all right,” 

“No, Mark! What if someone tells the media? What then? I can’t go through that again,” Mark pushed himself off the bed and caught Fernando, stopping him from pacing. Mark was relieved when he felt Fernando grip him back and buried his face in Fernando’s brunette curls. 

“Hey, it won’t come to that,” He muttered, placing a gentle kiss on Fernando’s forehead. Fernando tried to bring Mark closer. “Jenson wouldn’t do that to u-”

“Jenson?” Fernando pushed out of Mark’s hold to stare panicked at him. “What the fuck does Jenson have to do with anything?” There was an edge to Fernando’s voice that Mark couldn’t place. Mark sighed before facing his head down but averting his eyes up to Fernando. 

“He knows,” He sighed. Probably wasn’t the cleverest thing he could have done; it just sparked more panic in Fernando. 

“Wonderful! Fucking fantastic! I didn’t realise we were blurting this around now!” Annoyance was shinning through on Fernando’s tone, but Mark accepted it because he expected it. 

“We’re not blurting it, Fernando, Jenson worked it out,” Mark was sitting on the bed again and Fernando came over and fell next to him, staring up at the ceiling. Mark absent-mindedly started playing soothingly with Fernando’s hair. 

“Sorry,” Fernando sighed, closing his eyes as Mark continued. “So Jenson knows as well,”

“And Kimi,” Fernando opened his eyes to frown up at Mark, he had no more energy to get off the bed and he was too comfortable with Mark playing with his hair. 

“Kimi? He wasn’t even at the track today,”

“Yeah, but it’s Kimi. He probably knew before we did,” Fernando turned his eyes back up to the ceiling with an agreeing shrug, focusing on not hyperventilating. 

“So that’s Kimi, Jenson and…” Fernando couldn’t bring himself to say the next name. 

“I know Seb knows,” Mark said calmly. Fernando looked back over at him. “He came for a visit me in my room. Had some interesting things to say,” Fernando wrapped his arms around Mark’s waist and the Australian was a little startled at the sudden movement. He brought his hand back to Fernando’s hair and used the other to keep them upright. 

“I'm sorry, I should have said something to him. I panicked. I was just trying to not let him know he was right but I should have said something. He was trying to provoke me and I should have defended you. He just locked me in that interview room and I was just trying-”

“-He locked you in an interview room?”

“Yes, but luckily Felipe saw him and came and got me out,” Fernando waved away the comment as if it was irrelevant, moving one of his hands to cup Mark’s face. “But I should have defended you. I’m not ashamed of us, far from it. But you understand why I don’t want the world to know… I can’t go through it again, Mark, and I'm sorry. I want to be open with you and not care what anyone else thinks but I can’t… I feel horrid.” Fernando went to pull out of Mark’s grip but Mark pulled him closer. 

“It’s all right. I understand. I don’t want you to feel horrid. This is what we have to do and I get that. Fernando, if it meant I would get to be with you then I’m fine with it. I don’t want to loose you and now I have you I’m never letting you go, OK? You’re stuck with me,” Mark pushed a stray strand of hair out of Fernando’s face as he ended and brought their lips together gently. Fernando curled into Mark and Mark mused happily at how well Fernando could predict what Seb had done: the doubt he had tried to spark in Mark’s head had vanished. 

The knock on the door made both men look up. Fernando tensed in Mark’s arms. Mark was confused as to who could possibly want to find him at this late stage in the evening but Fernando’s thoughts flew to one man. Mark walked towards the door with Fernando in his wake and as he opened it slightly, Fernando hid behind it. Fernando wasn’t wrong. 

“Mark, I-”

“-Fuck off,” Mark went to close the door in Sebastian’s face, but Seb put his foot in the way preventing it from closing. In the brief moment of closure, Fernando dashed from behind the door and stood in the doorway of the bathroom, listening intently to the conversation happening beside him. 

“That’s a bit rude, I came to ask you something,”

“I'm in no mood to answer you, Seb, so do yourself a favour and fuck off,” Sebastian lowered his voice and feigned a shocked, sorry-filled expression. 

“Oh! Sorry! Is he here? I’ll come back later,” Seb smirked which made Mark’s blood boil. 

“There is no one here but me,”

“You sure about that?” Sebastian suspiciously stared into Mark’s eyes. “So if I went up to his room and knocked he would answer?” There was a moment of silence before Mark gave him his answer. 

“What do you want, Seb?” Fernando sighed and shook his head. Mark wasn’t very good at this. 

“To ask you something. Can I come in?”

“No.” Mark stepped into the open gap between the door and the wall to block any sort of entry. 

“I’m sure the team wouldn’t be too happy if they knew you were shutting me out,” Mark picked up the hidden message and glared down at his teammate. Satisfied, Sebastian pushed against the door, which now held no resistance, and walked in. Fernando moved into the bathroom and hid behind the wall, masking himself from view. He heard the springs bounce on the bed and assumed Seb had sat down. The slam of the door confirmed his assumption. 

“What do you want?” The anger was growing in Mark as he watched his younger teammate sit bouncing on his bed like a child with a tight grasp on his phone in his right hand. Mark folded his arms. 

“Springy bed,” Seb commented before letting himself fall to a stop and his eyes roam around the room. Confusion filtered onto his face, as he didn’t see anyone else in the room. His eyes settled on Mark. “Where is he?” he asked, genuinely confused. 

“I told you. Not here.” Mark was trying to hide the relief in his voice that Fernando had hidden and kept his eyes on Seb.

“You don’t have a clue, do you?” Seb gasped teasingly, wiggling his index finger at Mark. Mark wasn’t sure if he was just playing up the child-like thing or if it was sincere. 

“Yes. He’s not here.”

“Then where is he?”

“Why would I tell you that?”

“To prove to me you know… Maybe he skipped out on you. Wouldn’t be surprised,”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you seen yourself? Slugs have looked better,”

“Not everyone thinks that,” Mark said before he could stop himself.

“-Seriously! And that accent?” Sebastian impersonated Mark’s accent badly and swung his arms, bent at the elbows and ending in fists, across the front of his body. “Good ‘ay mate, I drive cars and love Fernando Alo-”

“Sebastian, serio-”

“-And the whole tall thing doesn’t really work in your favour either,  Mate.  I’ve heard he doesn’t like looking up,”

“Heard wrong then, didn’t you,” Fernando emerged from the bathroom, sick of hearing Sebastian’s false accusations. Mark was looking away from him and Fernando hated what Sebastian could do to him. He wanted to comfort Mark but he couldn’t whilst Seb was here. He kept his attention on the German. 

“Aha! The man himself appears!” Sebastian got up and used his phone to pretend he was a boxing announcer. “All the way from the red area of the paddock, standing at a comfortable one hundred and seventy-one centimetres, five shorter than myself, it’s you’re favourite, the Spanish heart-throb: Fernando Alonso!” Sebastian made a crowd cheering noise, but Fernando didn’t move. Sebastian crossed the floor to stand close to him, changing to an interviewer. “So, Fernando, do you think you can keep up your ‘heart-throb’ appeal when everyone finds out you are in a committed relationship with none other than rival-on-track Mark Webber?” Sebastian waved the phone under Fernando’s nose but he still didn’t talk. Sebastian turned to Mark. 

“Didn’t know you liked a quiet one,” Sebastian nudged him suggestively. “Thought you’d go for someone with a bit more fight in them,” 

“If you’re done prating around you can fuck off now,” Fernando spat, taking an instinctive step in front of Mark. Sebastian looked from one man to another and rolled his eyes, relenting back to his normal self. 

“Fine. Just thought you would like to see the voice record function on my phone and how it works,” Sebastian turned the phone in his hand and flashed the screen on the pair in front of him, showing them the recording that was in progress. “See if you hold the microphone towards people, it picks up what they have said!” He looked over at Fernando, but he was expressionless. “And if you press this one… oh shit! It  was  recording.” Sebastian feigned being shocked as he locked the phone and put it back in his pocket. Fernando wasn’t giving away anything, but Mark’s expression was pained. Sebastian smirked as he patted his teammate’s shoulder on his way out of the room. 

“You boys have a good night,” He smirked and with a quiet click of the door, he was gone.


	15. Abu Dhabi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Education is a country’s single most important priority and investing in the educational development of the individual represents the only real investment.”  
> ~Sheikh Mohammed Bin Zayed Al Nahyan~

The constant buzz finally broke into Fernando’s head and he began to wake up. His head was resting on Mark’s chest and he opened one eye experimentally, squinting into the morning light. It took him a moment to place the source of the buzzing, but the light of his phone caught his eye. It was resting on Mark’s bedside table and Fernando leaned over Mark and scooped it up in his hand. Fernando was careful to keep his weight off Mark and not disturbing him from sleep. He just watched the screen, taking in the caller ID and letting it ring out. He really wished Dasha would stop trying to call him. He knew if he rejected the call she would know he had seen it. So he had to let it ring out. Once it had stopped ringing in his hand he turned off the vibrate function and turned it onto silent, so it didn’t disturb him again, and placed it back down. He curled back into Mark’s hold and the daunting thoughts that had been threatening to overpower him last night flooded his head. 

It had been weird being the one doing the consoling rather than receiving. Mark was always holding Fernando, letting him know everything was fine. But yesterday it had been Mark who needed reassuring. Once Sebastian had left, Mark had crumpled, and Fernando had stepped in to the reassuring roll. He hated the fact Sebastian could manipulate Mark so easily, and it pained him to see Mark how he was last night. He never wanted to see it again, but he had a horrible feeling Sebastian would find a way…

“Well that just it then,” Mark said, still not looking at Fernando. Mark didn’t want to think what Sebastian had said was true, but he couldn’t shake his words. So simple and pathetic, but he had homed in on Mark’s deepest fears and he was worried that the thoughts evoking from those comments were true. What if Fernando thought that too? 

“What? That is nothing. He has recording of us talking, nothing too bad,” Fernando said in a soothing voice. He placed a hand comfortingly on Mark’s forearm but Mark moved away, folding his arms tighter and still not looking over at Fernando. “This is about something more,” He stated, pushing the hand that was on Mark’s arm into his pocket. 

“He’ll manipulate it, Fernando! That’s what it is! He’ll tell the media and it will be a repeat of two years ago!’’

“You don’t know that,” Fernando said, moving closer to Mark again. Mark ran his hands through his hair and crossed the room, leaning on the windowsill with his back to Fernando. Fernando felt crushed. Why was Mark shutting him out?

“I know him,” Mark muttered darkly. Fernando made to move across the room, but something about Mark’s posture made him stop, holding onto the bedpost at the foot of the bed. He just looked over at him, not sure of his next move. He couldn’t understand what was making Mark ignore him.

“Mark?” He tentatively called. Mark didn’t move; forcing his eyes shut so he couldn’t turn around to look at Fernando. He hated himself for this, but he couldn’t. Sebastian was too good. When Fernando’s hand fell on his shoulder, he tried to shrug it off, but the Spaniard tightened his grip and Mark knew a fight was pointless. Fernando tried to turn him to face him but Mark held onto the windowsill tightly and wouldn’t budge. “Mark, please look at me,” The pain in his voice almost made him snatch Fernando close to him and never let go. But doubt was growing in his head and he couldn’t stop it. Those comments had been nothing. Just Seb taking the piss. But the underlying message had been there: did Fernando really want him? This doubt that Mark was into this relationship more than Fernando was airing again and he was questioning if Fernando really wanted to be there. Fernando moved his hand off Mark’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around his waist, burying his face into his back. He felt Mark sigh, but it wasn’t of content. It was sadness. Fernando rose onto his tiptoes and placed a kiss in the crevice of Mark’s neck. 

“No,” Mark muttered as he pushed out of Fernando’s hold. He didn’t get far. Fernando caught his wrist and took the opportunity to force Mark to look at him. He read the conflicting emotions in Mark’s eyes and knew exactly what was troubling him. He was going to kill Sebastian. 

“Don’t listen to him; its all lies,” Fernando said, bringing his hands to cup Mark’s face. Mark looked into Fernando’s eyes with an expression of awe. As if whatever Fernando said was true. Small reservation was fighting to show as the pair just stood, eyes interlocked. 

“I just-” 

“-No, Mark. I am here because I want to be. I want to be here with you. And nothing anyone else says should make you believe different,” Fernando paused, watching Mark. He still had his attention. “The thought of you with anyone else…” Fernando shivered unintentionally and didn’t need to finish his sentence. 

“I not! I would never-” 

“-I was not implying anything,” Fernando smiled slightly and Mark looked down, blushing. “I was just saying that I don’t want anyone else but you. You are all I need. But you have to understand that Dasha is important and I can’t let the press know about us… So she must stay.” 

“But don’t you feel bad? This isn’t really fair on her,” Mark made a point Fernando hadn’t thought of. He felt all of a sudden very selfish. He happily removed the thought from his head, pushing it back to the place where he kept all of the other thoughts he didn’t want to think about. 

“I care about you, and I know it wouldn’t be easy for you either. I hate you sad. I don’t want you to be.” Fernando gently kissed the edges of Mark’s mouth and Mark couldn’t prevent the smile that erupted under the warm contact. All thoughts of Dasha swept from his mind. That was Fernando’s problem, not his. He wrapped his arms around Fernando’s waist, bringing him closer. 

“Better?” He asked, nuzzling into Fernando’s face. Their foreheads rested together and their eyes connected. 

“Much,” Fernando smiled as he caught Mark’s lips with his, happy to have his Australian back. 

Fernando looked up at Mark’s sleeping face and a small smile crept onto his. He loved that look of content peacefulness that captivated Mark in his sleep. He had no worries etched onto his delicate features and his strong jawline seemed to be calling to be kissed. Fernando felt a tug of distance as he looked up into his face. Mark was in an amazing place but Fernando couldn’t follow him. The realisation that this was nearly reality caught his breath in his throat. Mark only had three races left in Formula One. After that, what would happen to them? Rarely would they be in the same place at the same time. Fernando felt he had wasted these last three years with Mark. No filling them properly. It was too likely they would drift apart, go their separate ways at the end of the year. Fernando found himself clutching Mark closer; in a manner that if he didn’t he would disappear. Fernando slammed his eyes shut and forced away the inevitable outcomes. He would live each day as it came. He couldn’t let his worry about the end ruin what little time they had left. 

“It is kind of important that I breathe,” The Australian accent floated down to his ears and he looked up into Mark’s eyes. Unaware of how much he had moved into Mark, Fernando realised he had his entire body on Mark’s and had wrapped his arms very tightly around Mark’s rib cage. He released his hold and blushed. 

“Sorry,” Fernando said, sliding off Mark and curling around his side. Mark wrapped his arm around Fernando and brought him closer. 

“Any particular reason you were trying to hug me to death?” Mark said, resting his lips on top of Fernando’s head. Fernando fidgeted awkwardly in Mark’s hold and began playing with the cotton of Mark’s shirt. 

“Not really… Thinking…” Fernando muttered absent-mindedly. 

“About?”

“Nothing important,” Fernando pushed his face closer to Mark’s and caught him in a kiss. Mark didn’t believe him, but he let it go. Fernando snuggled himself into the curve of Mark’s shoulder and Mark began drawing patterns on his arm. He sighed contently. “What do you think he will do with the recording?” Fernando asked, looking up at the ceiling. Mark sighed. 

“Nothing. Not right now. He just wants us to know he’s got it so we know he’s got the power. He’ll just stash it, maybe make a copy just in case, and hold it over our heads,”

“You seem to understand him quite well,” Fernando mused. 

“No, not understand. I just get how he works.” He turned to Fernando. “And I had an idea,”

“Yeah?” Fernando looked up at him with his full attention. 

“I thought maybe we could get our own back,”

“Not sure I like where this is heading,”

“Nothing too bad. You know he listens to his iPod before each session?”

“This is common knowledge,”

“What if we changed it?” Fernando looked confused. 

“Huh?”

“If we changed over the iPod so he had different songs to listen to, he wouldn’t have his normal ‘fire-up’ songs,”

“I do not like this idea,” Fernando pouted, turning away from Mark. Mark frowned, confused. 

“Why not? It gives him a taste-”

“-Makes us a bad as him. I will not do this,”

“Fernando-”

“-No, Mark.” Fernando pushed himself up out of Mark’s hold so he could look down on him clearly. “Is not what I do. I will not be a part of your plan. Do what you want but I do not want to know.” Mark looked up at Fernando and saw he would not budge on this. Sometimes his stubbornness could really piss Mark off. It was justice. The little shit deserved it from what he had done to them. Mark had been so sure Fernando would agree; think it was a great idea. They weren’t doing any harm, just changing his music. It was sure to have no effect anyway, but Mark at least would have felt he wasn’t just letting things happen. 

Shortly after their discussion, they got up, getting ready to head to the track. Fernando went into the bathroom and Mark headed over to his track bag, making sure everything was in it. He pulled out the spare iPod he had planned on passing onto Sebastian and looked at it. It really wouldn’t do any harm. He looked over his shoulder at the bathroom door, hearing the running water of the shower and he made his decision. He dropped the iPod back in the bag, zipping it up. He was doing it for himself. He was doing it for them. He was doing it for justice.

\- - -

Fernando sat in the Ferrari Motor Home eating his lunch. He had just been talking with Andrea about the pace of the car, which was appearing to be shit this weekend. They were trying to work out whether it was the tyres or the car. Ferrari had always found it difficult on this circuit, but they had another practice session this afternoon to work it out and do something about it. Andrea had just left, which meant Fernando was now sitting alone. He wished Mark could have been here with him but he knew that would never be allowed. He gazed vacantly out of the window in front of him when he saw it. Just walking by as if this was the most causal place for her to be. 

The girl who had given him the drink from Mark at Sebastian’s party. 

He sat forwards. His attention was now fully on her as he watched her, in red Ferrari uniform, move around the cafeteria collecting empty plates. She seemed oblivious to the fact he was watching her, but relief washed over him as he was finally able to place the girl. He hadn’t even realised that it had been bugging him. She moved over towards him and he decided he wanted to talk to her. As she moved past, he kicked Andrea’s unoccupied seat out so it stopped in front of her, right in her path. 

“Arse hole,” She muttered in a perfectly British accent. Fernando almost laughed at the phrase coming from this small girl. He folded his arms and kept his foot resting on the chair so when she tried to push it in it didn’t budge. He heard her exasperate from behind the pile of plates and mutter something unintelligible under her breath. 

“That’s a big assumption when you don’t even know me,” He commented, making her look at him from behind the pile of plates. She blushed rapidly as she registered who she was talking to/about. 

“Sorry,” She said, looking down and making to move around the chair. 

“I kicked it out for a reason,” She looked up at him, dumbfounded. “Sit.” Her eyes drifted from the chair to him and finally ended on the kitchen door. 

“I don’t know if I'm supposed to…” Fernando sat forwards, resting his elbows on the table and his hands under his chin, removing his foot from the chair. 

“I’m asking you to,” She looked into his eyes and couldn’t refuse. She moved momentarily towards the kitchen and Fernando thought she wasn’t coming back. However, she returned, hands empty of plates, and sat in front of him, resting her hands on the table and sitting on the very edge of the seat with a straight back. She looked like she could get up at any moment and he wanted her to relax. Fernando brought his drink to his lips and surveyed her as he took a mouthful. She tucked her hair behind her ear awkwardly and stared at the table. He smirked a little before relaxing back in his chair. “So, who are you?” She looked up at him, confused at his question before blushing and looking back down at her hands. She muttered something quietly that sounded like Alex. “Alex. It’s nice to be formally introduced. I’m Fernando, though I'm assuming you know that as you work here.” He realised he was rambling and cut straight to his point. “What were you doing working a Red Bull party, Alex?” he asked curiously. Alice kept her stare at her hands. She was stuck in a predicament. She could correct him, but that could seem obnoxious. But if she didn’t she would be Alex forever and she didn’t want that. 

“It’s Alice, sorry,” She said, still not looking up.

“My apologies, Alice.” He waited for her to look at him but she still didn’t move. He rolled his eyes. “So, why were you working a Red Bull party,  Alice?”

“Sorry, I just needed some extra cash, sorry, and it seemed like an easy way to get it quickly… I’m sorry,” Fernando frowned. Why was she so apologetic?

“Why are you sorry?” There was a pause.

“I don’t know,” More confusion filled Fernando as he willed Alice to look up at him. 

“Then why are you apologising?”

“Just in case,” Fernando laughed lightly at her and he saw a small smile rose on her face as she laughed at her own stupidness. It seemed to relax her a little. 

“Well, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Fernando smiled. “As long as you did not tell Mark Webber anything about the car,” He joked. 

“Nothing you already haven’t,” She continued the joke. Fernando looked over at her. She couldn’t know, could she?

“What do you mean?”

“He… At the party… He wanted some help.” She looked into his eyes and they told him she knew. That was four. 

“I’ll trust you haven’t made this the gossip of the kitchen,” Fernando said with a sharp edge to his words. He had folded his arms. Alice was a little hurt at the accusation. He didn’t even know her and even if he was Fernando Alonso, he was being rash and stereotypical and she didn’t like it. 

“Because that’s what you’d expect me to do?” She spat back. Fernando was shocked by her sudden change of tone and instantly felt bad. 

“No, sorry,” he ran his hand through his hair. “It’s just tough. I didn’t want anyone to know and it seems to be spreading like wild fire.” He sighed. 

“Well I haven’t and won’t tell anyone. You’re secrets safe with me,” She smiled and he gave her a thanking one back. She got up. “Was that all for you, Sir?” Fernando was confused by her sudden formality but a quick glance over his shoulder explained. Who he assumed was the Head Waiter had emerged from the kitchen. He turned back to Alice. 

“Yes thanks, though if you wouldn’t mind finishing our discussion after practice two, I would appreciate it,”

“Discussion?”

“Yes. I will meet you here,” He said and with confusion on her face, she departed, picking up the plates she had left on the side and took them through to the kitchen. Fernando smiled as he finished his lunch. He was formulating a plan of his own. 

\- - - - -

“Fernando, where are we going?” Mark questioned as the Spaniard towed him away from the paddock. They had Qualy in just over an hour and Fernando was whisking him away. He had caught him just as he was leaving the press pit and hadn’t let go of his wrist since. There was a cheeky smile on Fernando’s face that made Mark feel uneasy… They couldn’t do anything in this short amount of time… Could they? They’d never managed it before. Mark preferred to drag it out, making it more pleasurable… But Fernando had been full of quirky little ideas this week. 

“You will see,” Fernando smiled, pulling him behind the motor homes and crossing the car park. Mark swallowed. 

“Fernando, we don’t have much time,” Mark blushed, clearly implying what he was hinting at in his tone. Fernando shot him a playful look of disgust. 

“You spend too much time with Jenson; you are always thinking badly of me,” Fernando winked turning back and focusing on the route through a hole in the car park fence. Fernando released Mark’s wrist so he could climb through after him, but instead of retaking it once he had straightened up, he slipped his fingers through Mark’s. He led him a short distance before climbing through a bush and extending his arm “Ta dah!” He smiled as the Australian looked down upon the sight in front of him. Fernando had set out a blanket and there was a range of food in little tubs. They were hidden away from any prying eyes by the surrounding bushes but they could see out over the top at the Abu Dhabi landscape. Mark turned to Fernando beaming and pulled the Spaniard closer to him by tugging on their interlinked hands. 

“You’re amazing,” He smiled as he kissed Fernando with no fear of being seen. Fernando smiled back up at him when they parted. 

“Was not all me.” He started, looking down at the spread. “Was my idea, but Alice made it happen. She found the spot and boxed up the food,”

“Something else we’ll have to thank her for,” Mark mused as he sat down, extending his arm so the Spaniard could curl into him. 

“Something else?” Fernando asked, sighing deeply into Mark’s chest. This was what he wanted to be able to do all of the time, but it just wasn’t possible. 

“Well she was the one who helped me be able to do this,” Mark said as he pulled Fernando closer to kiss him again. Mark welcomed Fernando as he sucked his bottom lip. As he entered Mark’s mouth the Australian pulled him on top of him, lying down in the grass. Mark was a little disappointed when Fernando broke it off, but smiled up at him, keeping one hand on the small of his back and placing the other behind his head. 

“Come on, let’s eat,” Fernando said, pushing himself up and using the hand that was on his back to drag Mark up with him. 

“Someone hungry?” Mark joked, not letting Fernando move away from him and wrapping his arm around his shoulder. 

“Yes. And I want you to taste the Ferrari food so you understand how much better than Red Bull we are,” Fernando said opening a container that let out the most wonderful smell. Mark smirked. 

“Even if you can’t beat us in a Championship?” Mark joked. Fernando gave him a not-amused amused look before holding up a fork coated with food. 

“Yes.” He said pointedly and Mark smirked at he took the mouthful of food from the fork Fernando presented to him. He was right. It was defiantly better than anything Red Bull had ever served. But he couldn’t let Fernando know that. Not yet. He smirked as Fernando looked into his face and shrugged. 

“It’s alright,” Mark held back the laugh that was fighting its way to the surface at Fernando’s shocked expression. He dove for another container. 

“Better than Red Bull?” Fernando queried desperately as he held out another forkful of food for Mark. 

“Aren’t you going to eat any, mate?” He looked at Fernando as he took the food, which was – again – amazing. The Italian’s really had got something right. 

“Not until you tell me I’m right,” Fernando winked at Mark as he read too clearly in his eyes that he was. Mark was trying to fight it but it was too good. He smiled sweetly at Mark, poised with the next forkful. Mark looked sceptically at the man in front of him. 

“How do you know it’s that good? You have this one,” Mark tried to manoeuvre the fork to Fernando but it stayed put. 

“I eat this stuff every race weekend; I know what it tastes like,” There was no wiggle room. Mark sighed, shaking his head, amused. 

“You really are quite stubborn, aren’t you,”

“Yes. Now, how good?” Fernando said, smiling. Mark laughed gently. 

“It’s amazing, mate,” He said going to take the next forkful. But Fernando, now satisfied, turned the fork to himself and popped it in his mouth, smirking widely. 

“Just like me,” Mark let his laugh ring out this time, pushing Fernando backwards so he was lying underneath the Australian. He smiled down into his face and he took the fork from his hand and scooped up another forkful. 

“Just like you, Fer,” Mark said and he repeated Fernando’s movements and placed the fork in his own mouth. Once he had swallowed, Fernando pulled him down by the edge of his race suit and brought their lips together. 

Best lunch ever. 

\- - -

Mark was just about to leave the Red Bull Motor Home, which he had returned to after his lunch with Fernando to get ready for Qualy, when it happened. He walked over to the door and opened it a fraction so he could see what the commotion was outside his door. He wasn’t wrong. He smirked to himself. 

“What the hell is this?” Sebastian was furiously yelling as he stormed past Mark’s room without stopping. He was waving an iPod in the air as a frantic Red Bull personal was trying to keep stride with him. Mark’s smirk grew wider as he closed the door, returning to his own preparations. 

Yes, this day was quite good. 

\- - -  
\- So, Fernando, being out in Q2 wasn’t really what you were looking for today – 

Well the entire weekend has been very difficult and there are some tracks where staring on fresh tyres is good, so we are hoping this is one of these tracks. It is, obviously, better to get into Q3 as you have the opportunity to start closer to the front but unfortunately I didn’t get a clean lap and there was always a lot of traffic and only missed by a few tenths. 

\- Is this something you were expecting or are you shocked to not be taking part in the last part of qualy? - 

Obviously, we are surprised. It is unusual for us to not make it through even though this is a track we have always struggled on. Luckily, are Sunday pace is always normally better than our Saturday so we approach the race tomorrow fairly positively. We must, however, produce the perfect race if we want to achieve what we came here to do which is to gain points on Mercedes and regain second in the Constructors Championship. It will be a hard race and strategy will be key to making sure this will pay off. 

\- And, being able to choose what tyres you start on, does this change the strategy you were looking at? - 

Well, I mean, we don’t normally discuss strategy until we know where we start but the softer tyre has appeared to run better in the day so it would seem obvious to start on those and then change to the mediums as the darkness falls. Clearly, we will have to see how things go. 

\- - -

\- Mark, congratulations on getting pole, how has it been so far this weekend? - 

Yes, I mean, this weekend has been pretty smooth for us so far and it’s not the easiest venue, as you have to deal with the changing temperatures from a driver’s and engineering point of view. But it’s great to get onto pole; puts us in the best position for the race. 

\- How did it go, from your point of view? - 

It wasn’t the most electric start to Q1 and Q2, but as the session went on we made some changes and I got more comfortable in the car. I knew where I had to improve on the track, as there were aspects where Seb was doing better than me. I was trying to match him whilst trying to keep up with the good job I was already doing, so overall I’m happy and looking forward to the race tomorrow. 

\- - -

He walked into his hotel room and smiled as he saw Fernando walking out of the bathroom. He had expected him to be here and was happy he was right. Fernando didn’t look over at him when he walked it, which confused him a little, but when he pulled him into his arms, Fernando just stood, accepting the contact. Mark frowned as he let go, letting Fernando continue into the room. 

“Everything alright?” Mark asked cautiously, watching Fernando fold up his clothes. He hadn’t changed from his Ferrari shirt and jeans and was folding away his spare pyjamas. Pyjamas? Mark caught his arm. “Fernando,”

“Am not happy,” Fernando said, looking up at Mark with a bored expression. Mark gathered he was annoyed about qualy and sighed in relief. 

“It’s not so bad, you’ve just got to stay out of trouble. I’m sure you’ll come up with an amazing tactic that sees you up the front,” he gave Fernando a small smile as he rubbed his arm. “And with Kimi being disqualified you’re up to ten-”

“-Am not annoyed about qualy. Am annoyed at you,” Fernando said, turning his back to Mark and picking up his spare pyjamas. Mark frowned.

“Me? What did I do?” Mark wondered if maybe Fernando was pissed at him because he was on pole. No. Fernando wasn’t that petty… Right?

“Your stupid plan. Why did you do that?” It took Mark a moment to remember he swapped Sebastian’s iPod and a smirk fought to fall on his face. He pushed it away. 

“I told you, I wanted him to feel-”

“-Sorry, Sebastian, didn’t realise I was talking to you,” Fernando spat as he stuffed his spare pyjamas in his bag. He was packing. 

“What’s your problem?” Mark asked. His confusion and Fernando’s unexplained actions were angering him. He didn’t want Fernando to leave. 

“You! I do not like this new Mark,” 

“I’m not new, I’m me,”

“Then I do not like you,” Fernando’s words hurt and Mark was frantically trying to work out what was happening. Was this the end?

“What are you saying?”

“You spent too much time with him and now you’re turning into him! I want you, not Sebastian mark two!”

“I’m not Sebastian mark two!”

“You did a pretty shitty thing, Mark,”

“You told me to do what I wanted!”

“Because I thought you would realise how alike him it was, how stupid, and would not do it!”

“Well you should have been a little clearer, mate!” Fernando just stared at Mark with the bored expression on his face. Mark was furious at his accusation but it was annoying him more that Fernando didn’t even seem phased. Had he expected Mark to act like Sebastian? “So what, you think I only got pole because Sebastian didn’t get to listen to his fucking music?” Mark seethed glaring at Fernando. Fernando looked down at his bag and when he didn’t answer Mark assumed he was right. Great fucking support  Mark growled to himself. “Well?”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t stay with you like this,” Fernando hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and turned to head out of the room. 

“What do you mean ‘like this’?” Mark spat and Fernando turned around. 

“When you’ve stopped being a twat, come and find me. Until then don’t bother,” Fernando turned and just like that he was gone. Mark stood frozen for a moment. This couldn’t have just happened. He blinked at the door before moving over to the drawer where Fernando had put his clothes and opening it. Empty. He left it open as he passed into the bathroom and looked down at the bottles that stood there. Fernando’s shower stuff had gone. With panic rising in his chest, he rushed back into the room and threw back the covers. Mark’s pyjama bottoms that Fernando wore weren’t there. He moved towards the door when he spotted them. Hanging over the back of the desk chair. Fernando had left them here because he didn’t want them. He had left them here. Just as he had left Mark. 

Mark stumbled back until he was leaning against the wall and slid down it, still clutching Fernando’s pyjamas in his hands. This couldn’t be. Not over a little thing like this. But it had been a very Sebastian-like plan. Supported by very Sebastian-like reasons. Mark buried his head in his hands, not wanting to think what this might mean for him and Fernando. He wanted him back now. He wanted to hold him in his arms. But Fernando didn’t want that. He was becoming too much like Seb. Mark threw the trousers from him before scooping them back up and holding them close. Holding onto the bit of Fernando that had remain in this fucking room. Holding them close, he let tears pour from his eyes, not holding back anything. 

This couldn’t be the end. 

\- - - - -

“Fernando, what happened?” Andrea’s panicked words sounded in his ear. The Toro Rosso was behind him, but that was a big bump. His steering wheel was flashing at him. “Fernando the alert is on. Alert is on. Please confirm you are OK.”

“He gave me no room. There was no room.” Fernando was shaken. He hadn’t expected that. He had seen the Toro Rosso and it had kept coming. It was staying on the racing line, but Fernando was on the racing line. He had been run off the track and forced over that… Mountain? A bump that big should not be on the outside of the track round a fast corner. His back started to ache. 

“Confirm. Please confirm.” Stefano’s voice came through in his ears. This was obviously serious. 

“Yes, I’m fine. The car? Is there any damage?” It didn’t feel wrong but it had been a big drop and his steering wheel was confusing him. “Do I need to stop?”

“There are fifteen laps. Fifteen. If you are OK we have fresh tyres and need the points.” There was no ‘if’ in Stefano’s statement. They did need the points. Felipe was behind him and he, Fernando, had fresh fast tyres on. He could gain some places. Pain shot threw his back but he gritted his teeth. He needed the points. For the team. 

“The car is good?” 

“No damage to report,” Andrea said, tensely. Fernando knew the whole team would be listening for his reply. 

“What is the gap to the car in front?” he heard Andrea’s sigh of relief before he answered. 

“Two point three in front, but that is decreasing. Gap behind is one point four and increasing,” Fernando turned his entire focus back to the race and it was only once he had passed Lewis that he heard Stefano again. Andrea had just given him the new gaps when the Team Principle’s voice sounded. 

“Fernando you will have to go to the hospital after the race for a check up. You need to be checked because the impact was more than eighteen g-force so you triggered the chassis alarm. It is FIA regulations if you trigger this alarm. Can you confirm you understand,”

“Yes. I understand.” The radio went dead and Fernando focused on catching the Force India in front of him. 

\- - -

This was a little more than embarrassing. He was fine. He had told them he was fine. Just a little back pain. But they wouldn’t have it. He had happily completed his press obligation with no hassle. And he had gone to the ambulance like he was told to. By the FIA. He thought this was a little extreme though. He was only being check up and thought the neck harness and foil blanket was a little much. He was secured onto the stretcher as they put him in the back of the ambulance and he just prayed no one saw him. Beyond embarrassment. 

\- - 

Mark was panicking. He hadn’t been told and he was furious no one had had the decency to let him know. Just a small radio message would have been fine. That’s all he wanted. All he thought he deserved. But no, no one had told him anything. Until now. His prick of a PA had waited until he was all done to give him a run down of the rest of the grid. Mark was confused at first, but when he had told him about Fernando. He was panicking. He strode down the paddock not caring if he was needed for something else. He needed to know Fernando was OK. He stopped outside the Ferrari Motor Home. 

No one was around. Of course they weren’t. Their star driver had been involved in a pretty big incident so why would they be hanging around. Mark was relieved when he saw Andrea storming down the paddock and almost didn’t want to stop him. But he had to. 

“Andrea,” He called, but the Italian didn’t stop. Mark fell into step beside him. “Andr-”

“I cannot stop, what do you want?” Mark swallowed. 

“Where is he?”

“They’re taking him to hospital to be checked. He says he is fine.” Mark suppressed a laugh. Fernando would say he was fine if his right arm fell off. 

“Where are you heading?”

“To the ambulance.” Andrea said bluntly. Mark stopped walking. Ambulance? What the hell was going on? Mark only noticed Andrea had gone when he turned to talk to him again. He ran off down the paddock following the red shirt but he was too late. Not too late to see it. Fernando. Strapped down to a stretcher. With a neck brace. And a foil blanket. Mark froze in his tracks. His world was crumpling around him. No. Why couldn’t it have been someone else? 

Mark watched as they pulled Fernando into the back of the ambulance and Andrea jumped in behind him. The flashing blue lights danced across Mark’s face as the ambulance announced its disappearance and left the track. 

\- - 

The traffic was so bad. Mark was trying desperately to get to the hospital. He needed to see him. Needed to know he was all right. The ambulance had passed right through the congested roads. But Mark was stuck. The hundreds of brake lights surrounding him were teasing. Three times he had to prevent himself from bursting into tears. He couldn’t loose Fernando like this. Not how they had left things. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to him since he left. He couldn’t loose Fernando like this. It wasn’t fair. 

An hour after he had left the circuit he arrived at the hospital. He climbed out of the car and forgot to lock it in his rush to get inside. But he need not have bothered. About thirty paces from the entrance door, it opened and Andrea and Fernando walked out, talking in a relaxed manner. Mark couldn’t help himself. He was so relieved. He ran over to Fernando and pulled the Spaniard close to him, placing on hand gently on his back and the other on his neck. He buried his face in Fernando’s hair and let a few tears escape his eyes, breathing him in. He was here. In his arms. Mark relaxed. 

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” Mark muttered down to Fernando. He wanted to kiss him but he suddenly became all too aware of Andrea and the intimate way he was holding Fernando. He let go and took a step away from him, looking at the floor and blushing. 

“Don’t let me stop you,” Andrea said with a causal wave of his hand between the two of them. Both men looked over at him, confused. 

“What?” they chorused together. Andrea smirked at their naivety. 

“I know. I knew before you did,” Andrea said, folding his arms and observing them both. He was glad to be confirmed right though, even if he had known it was inevitable. Korea was when he first got the vibe it was going to happen soon. Fernando was a little too worried about Mark over the radio. 

“I don’t know what you’re-” Mark started, but Andrea interrupted him.

“-Don’t bother with your pretence, Mark. I assume you are all set for a ride back to the hotel then?” Andrea winked making Fernando blush. Mark nodded for him and Andrea tentatively patted Fernando’s shoulder. “See you later,” He smiled, but then his tone got a little more serious. “Rest and keep stress off that back, I’ll see you in Austin,” Andrea walked away leaving the two men standing there. Once he had got into the car, Fernando turned on Mark. 

“That’s five,” he said in a bitter tone. Mark got the impression he was blaming him, but when he didn’t respond, Fernando started walking towards the car. 

“It’s not my fault,” Mark stated, falling into step beside Fernando. He could tell he was still upset from last night; he hadn’t forgiven him. Fernando turned on him when they reached the car. 

“Why are you here?” Mark was stunned by the question. 

“Why am I…? Fernando, if you didn’t realise, you were in a pretty big incident. So much so they sent you to a hospital all wrapped up!”

“This was excessive,” Fernando said, referring to the way they had wrapped him to get him to the hospital. Mark continued as if Fernando hadn’t spoke. 

“I was worried sick! I thought the worst had happened! And then someone told me it was a vertical impact of twenty-eight g!” Mark wanted to hold him again, but he knew he couldn’t. The pain just settled in his stomach and he felt like he was going to be sick. Fernando silently watched him. There was a moment of silence. 

“I heard you apologised,” Fernando muttered, still looking at Mark. Mark fiddled with the keys in his hand, knowing Fernando had changed the subject and was talking about how he had apologised to Sebastian about the iPod. 

“So?” Fernando sighed and rolled his eyes. He moved over to Mark. 

“Not a very Sebastian-like thing to do,” he smiled, running one of his hands through Mark’s hair. Mark leaned into his touch with his eyes closed. When Fernando rested his hand on the back of Mark’s neck, the Australian opened his eyes and looked at him. “Sorry for scaring you,” Mark smiled slightly. Of course Fernando was apologising for something he couldn’t control. 

“Just… Don’t do it again, yeah?” Mark wrapped his arms around Fernando and pulled him closer. Fernando gasped in agony as a shot of pain ran down his back. Mark froze. “What? What is it?” Fernando tried to give Mark a normal smile but there was pain still residing in his eyes. Mark was beginning to panic. 

“Nothing, just a little sore,” Fernando sighed, rising onto his toes to kiss Mark gently. 

“I’ll bet,” Mark said, leaving his forehead attached to Fernando’s. They were fine. It was over. Mark never wanted to let Fernando out of his hold. This whole experience had shown him how fragile he was and he couldn’t go through it again. Not ever. 

“Nothing a massage couldn’t help,” Fernando said with puppy-dog eyes. Mark smirked. 

“I’m going nowhere near it. God knows how much I would fuck it up,”

“But I want you to,”

“Fuck it up? You’ve got a race in a fortnight. No, it’s not worth being killed by Ferrari. Sorry, mate,” Fernando pouted.

“If I said please?” Mark looked down into his eyes, pulling away slightly. 

“Fernando,” his tone was authoritative and Fernando knew he wouldn’t budge. “When you’re better. I promise.” Mark kissed him again and then they got in the car to start the slow journey back to the hotel. Fernando held out his hand for the car key and Mark scoffed at him. “No chance.” He said as he climbed into the driver’s seat. Fernando stood outside the passenger’s, leaning in. 

“Why not? I am fine,”

“You’re injured. Not going to let you drive unless I have to,” Fernando rolled his eyes and got in the car. Mark did his seat belt for him, making sure he didn’t twist his back, with a smirk before returning to his own. Fernando folded his arms. 

“Do not like this,” Fernando pouted as Mark started up the car. Mark’s smirk grew bigger. He knew how much this ‘being taken care of’ business would be killing Fernando’s ego. 

“This is necessary,” Mark said as he drove out of the car park. 

“I am just sore, I do not need taking care of,”

“Didn’t sound like that when you were asking for  me to give you a massage,”

“Was different,” he looked out the window, away from Mark.

“How?”

“I wanted you to,”

“And because you now don’t I can’t look after you?”

“This is correct,” There was a pause. 

“Doesn’t quite work like that,” Fernando turned back to Mark.

“Then how does it work?”

“I don’t like seeing you in pain, so I will do everything I can to prevent this” Fernando considered this. 

“Well I am going back to Spain tomorrow and so you won’t be able to stop me driving or put on my seat belt.” Mark chewed on the inside of his cheek. He had wanted to ask him anyway, but now it just made more sense. 

“Come back with me to England then,” He suggested, changing gear. 

“So you can make sure I don’t do anything? Not a chance,” Fernando scoffed, turning back to look out the front window. 

“No, because I want to spend time with you. Accident or no accident, mate, I would have still asked you.” Fernando turned to face Mark, trying to read his expression. He seemed genuine. 

“You want me to come to England with you?”

“Just like I came to Spain, though I can’t promise you good weather, it will probably rain,” 

“Is this not odd?” Mark blushed, not really sure what Fernando meant.

“You don’t have to, just a thought…”

“No, will this not be odd us turning up to America together?” 

“Then just come for a few days. That way I get you, Spain gets you and at some point your team can have you,” Mark smiled, taking a quick glance at Fernando. He was facing forwards with his legs crossed on the chair, just like he did when he was sitting at the back of the garage waiting to get in his car. His head was turned to Mark, though, a genuine glow of appreciation on his face. 

“Only if you don’t strap me to the bed,” Fernando joked, suggesting the way he was taken to hospital. 

“Not in your condition. You need to rest your back,” Mark commented, turning Fernando’s words into a double entendre. He looked at Fernando and winked, making the man beside him blush. Mark smiled as he turned his attention back to the road. Fernando rested his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, focusing on keeping his back straight. 

Yes, the next four days with Mark would be very interesting.


	16. Massage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I love a massage. I'd go every day if I could. I don't need to be wrapped in herbs like a salmon fillet, but I do love a massage.”  
> ~Jason Bateman~

Being at home, alone again, sucked. He wanted to go to Mark’s but that wasn’t for another few days. He had come home so he could rest and have a few more check on his back. It still hurt, but what was annoying him most about the whole process was that it was preventing him from going to Mark’s. He had been lying on his bed, just staring at the ceiling, but he was bored of not doing anything and got up, deciding on tidying up the room a bit. He started to sort out the things on the top of the dresser when he saw it. The cake box from that night so long ago. The night when Mark had lied. The night before Mark left. Fernando understood now why he had lied. In all fairness, Fernando would have probably done the same. But that look Mark had had in his eyes. At the time, Fernando had not known it was pure lust, but now he did he wanted to see it their again. Fernando tingled with anticipation. 

He looked back down at the box in his hands. He didn’t dare open it; the untouched cake within would probably be green and fluffy with mould. He wrinkled his nose at the thought as his head cast him back to his last ‘almost-night’ with Dasha. Thinking back, he couldn’t remember the last time they had had sex. It wasn’t recent, that’s for sure. He remembered that night so well but not because of Dasha. Because of how great Mark had looked. But he remembered coming back up to his room after the confusing conversation with Mark, not in the mood to do anything but fall asleep…

As he entered the room, with a frown – again – firmly fixed onto his face, he saw her sitting on the bed. He forced the impulse to groan in annoyance as he clocked she was wearing nothing but delicate, lace underwear, the black material blending in with the dull bed sheets. He moved across the room, not looking at her, and began to change for bed.

“I brought you some cake,” she said in a seductive tone. Fernando couldn’t understand why he had so little patience with her. He wished he could just go back downstairs and demand Mark tell him the real reason behind his sadness. But he couldn’t work out why. Fernando shook his head slightly as he took off his watch, leaving it on top of the dresser. 

“Thanks, but I’m alright,” Fernando said, honestly. Dasha was going about this the wrong way. She knew how strict he was on his diet and he had already had something that he was going to need to compensate for with an early morning run. “You have it,” he stated over his shoulder as he pulled off his shirt. 

“I thought we could share,” she remained with her seductive tone but it was doing nothing for Fernando. His thoughts were too distracted with the man downstairs. He was presented with the memory of the sunset, but forced it away. He didn’t like Mark like that. Like Mark had said they just got caught in the moment. 

“I’m really not hungry,” Pulling on the purple/blue pyjama bottoms he had grown to wearing; he saw Dasha’s posture deflate. He turned away and rolled his eyes, knowing he was going to have to deal with her grumpy. 

“Well that’s just great, Fernando,” she started sarcastically as she got up, pushing the cake back into the box and closing it up. “I’m trying to create a romantic mood and you can’t be bothered. Thanks, that makes me feel so great,” Fernando turned to face her as she passed by him, placing the boxed cake on top of the dresser. 

“I can be bothered, Dash, but you know what I’m like,” he said, catching her arm. 

“And you can’t break your precious training regime or diet just for one night?”

“I all ready did, Dasha! You don’t get it; you don’t have to do it,”

“I have to stay in shape, Fernando. I’m a model,” she spat, pulling her arm from his grip.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to like I do, you can have as many pleasantries as you want. I can’t. The sport’s too strict!”

“This isn’t just about cake, is it,” Dasha stated, folding her arms. Fernando blinked at her.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you keep wearing those?” She asked, pointing to his pyjamas. He looked down at the purple/blue material encasing his legs. He didn’t know why he kept wearing them. His head presented him with more thoughts of lust for Mark. No. That couldn’t be it. He was with Dasha. Mark was his friend. Nothing more.

“I don’t know,” he frowned at his legs. 

“Whose are they?” Fernando couldn’t tell her. She wouldn’t understand. 

“They’re mine,”

“Fernando, I know pretty much every piece of clothing you own and they’re not yours!”

“And it’s not possible I brought something new?” he spat. 

“You wouldn’t buy those! Who gave them to you?” Her tone was getting more and more agitated, which, in turn, was making Fernando more and more agitated. He didn’t have to stand here taking this. 

“I did. I brought them so I could wear them. It’s not difficult to comprehend.” He said in a forced even tone that revealed his annoyance at the repetition of the question she had asked too many times. 

“Did Mark have something to do with your odd purchase?” Fernando frowned at her, trying to not make his blush so obvious. He crossed the room, keeping his back to her. 

“Why would Mark-?”

“-Because it was his room you came from when you were wearing them,” Dasha said. Fernando was impressed by her memory, but he didn’t want to hear any more questions about Mark. Thinking about Mark was too confusing anyway. He grabbed a pillow and headed for the door. 

“No. I brought them. Me. I brought them for me. I don’t see what the problem is. I liked them, so I brought them.” Fernando said, crossing his room and putting a hand on the handle. 

“Where are you going?”

“Away from here. I came up to sleep, not be given intense questions,” He said, slamming the door behind him. Dasha threw herself into the bed as the door slammed, pulling one of the remaining pillows close to her and wrapping her arms around it, pretending it was Fernando. She felt bad that she had driven him out by commenting on his pyjamas. Why couldn’t she just let that go? They were just so… not him. She buried her face in the pillow and pulling the duvet close, and somehow sleep found her. 

Fernando paused at the bottom of the stairs, looking over to the spare room Mark was using. Something deep within him that he didn’t understand nor ever want to air again made him cross the hall and place a hand on the door handle. What in the world was he doing? He looked down at his hand as if it wasn’t his. It was odd, wanting to go in but also not wanting to. He put it down to the fact Mark was still lying to him and hadn’t told him what was really wrong. That was why he wanted to go into Mark’s room. Right? That was logical. Fernando went to move away when he heard a soft moan from the other side of the door. He froze with wide eyes. It was such a wonderful noise his thoughts went straight to Mark’s face in the restaurant. He hadn’t been OK and there was something about his expression that made Fernando want to see it again. A moment of light headedness made Fernando rock his weight forwards as if he was going to open the door, but he pushed himself back, stumbling on his feet and clutching the pillow in his hands across his chest. No. Mark was his friend. There was no lust there. He was with Dasha. Nothing else. Mark was his friend. 

He turned and walked into the kitchen without turning back, setting himself up a temporary bed on the sofa. He dragged one of the old cotton blankets from the cupboard and snuggled down into the warmth it held. He would ask Mark what the real problem was in the morning. He closed his eyes, satisfied with his decision and trying to force that sound from being replayed back to him…

He dumped the box into the bin without a second thought. He should have realised then he and Dasha were not clicking anymore. He had been so focused on not thinking about Mark that when she had appeared the next morning he threw himself at her, wanting to feel that connection again. It was clear after they had had breakfast that something was amiss. He had tried to keep his thoughts from Mark during her stay, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult. And when she had left and given him three days alone to be immersed in thoughts of the Australian he had got so used to being within himself and closed off from everyone he couldn’t find a way to want to have her around him any more. That had truly been the end. 

Fernando rolled his eyes as he heard his phone ringing from upstairs. He was starting to hate his ringtone, which was growing louder as he ascended up the stairs. Dasha had been calling too much. At least five times a day and it was becoming increasingly more annoying. It had gotten to the point where he just left his phone around the house somewhere and checked on it every so often to make sure no one else was trying to get hold of him. He decided that he was now going to tell her to stop calling as he scooped up the phone. But as he read the Caller ID his anger evaporated, a smile falling on his face instead. 

“Hola,” Fernando said down the phone in a cheery voice. It was not returned. 

“How’s your back?” a panicked Australian accent said, skipping the pleasantries of a greeting. Fernando rolled his eyes. He was a little tired of people asking. 

“Is fine, just a little sore,” Mark sighed, still not convinced but a little relieved. 

“You tweeted you were having more tests. A text wouldn’t have hurt,” Mark’s worry was tinted with annoyance that made Fernando smirk. 

“What would be the point if I had no results to tell?”

“Do you have some now?” The pure panic was back and Fernando’s tone turned soothing. 

“Yes, I am all good. Clear to race in Austin,” Fernando smiled as he heard Mark exasperate on the other end of the line. 

“Thank fuck for that, don’t know what I would have done if I had to take on Sebastian alone,” A hint of a joke was in the end of Mark’s sentence.

“What you normally do,” Fernando added darkly. Mark hastily changed the subject. 

“What you up to now then?”

“Tidying up,” Fernando said, trapping the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he began folding his clear laundry. 

“Nothing too excessive I hope,”

“You worry too much. Am fine. Doctors tell me this. You must believe me now,”

“Yeah I do, mate… I do…” Mark’s voice faded and Fernando knew he was still worrying. 

“You must not worry, Mark,”

“I’m not,” Mark said in a cheery tone Fernando could tell was forced. “So when do I get to see you?”

“I fly tomorrow morning. Do we have plans?”

“Just around the house tomorrow, I’m going to give you the grand tour,”

“And then?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Mark’s smirk was audible through the phone and Fernando was glad to have distracted him from worrying. 

“Tease,” Fernando mimicked Mark’s tone from the aeroplane when Mark had said the same. The return of the memory sending anticipation through him and he wanted to see Mark now. “What are you doing?”

“Just got back from walking the dogs so I’m lying on the sofa watching sport and talking to you,”

“Same as normal then,” Fernando added in a teasing tone. 

“And how do you know that’s normal?”

“Is the only thing you did when you were here unless I dragged your arse outside,” 

“Fair point, mate,” Mark sighed and Fernando envisioned him sinking back into the sofa, relaxing. Fernando sat on the edge of the bed, preparing himself for what he was about to do. 

“What are you wearing?” Fernando said with closed eyes. He could almost hear Mark’s confusion in the silence that followed. 

“Jeans and a shirt, why?” Mark questioned sceptically. 

“Just trying to imagine,” Fernando sighed falling back onto the bed so he was lying down. “Colour of shirt?”

“Where are you going with this, Fernando?”

“What to get the right picture when I imagine them on my floor,” The dead silence from the other end of the line was exactly what Fernando was after and he smirked to himself as he ran one of his hands down his side as Mark would if he was here. 

“What?” Mark’s voice broke on the tiny word making Fernando smirk wider. 

“On my floor, where they would be if you were here,” Fernando heard Mark’s voice catch in his throat and sighed into the feeling. 

“No, they wouldn’t be on your floor, they’d be by the front door. Not enough time for your bedroom,” Mark’s words filled Fernando’s head and he was happy he was lying down because he felt very light headed. 

“Time?” Fernando wasn’t having coherent thoughts has his hand rested on his navel. He kept his eyes closed, letting the images Mark was creating fill his head. 

“Defiantly not. Right now I would be kissing down your side, slowly tugging at the waistband of your…” 

“Jeans,” Fernando said breathlessly, transferring Mark’s words into actions. 

“Mmm… Yes, your shirts already gone. That had gone ages ago,” Fernando ran a hand under his shirt across the skin of his torso and gasping as his fingers brushed on his sensitive nipple. 

“And I-”

“Shh… No talking. Your jeans are on the floor and I'm kissing up your leg. Would you be able to talk?” Mark’s seductive tone made Fernando hold back a whimper as he pushed his jeans off his legs and let them puddle on the floor. Mark was focusing this all on him and he wanted to return it. But Mark told him not to and he felt the need to oblige. He let out his whimper as an answer to Mark.

“God, Fernando,” Mark said in a response to his whimper. Fernando’s hand was resting on his inner thigh, tantalisingly close to his erect cock. He willed Mark to speak again but there was only silence. 

“Mark?”

“You ready?” Mark’s tone was so strong and clear that Fernando shivered, clamping his eyes shut so as to not loose the beautiful image of Mark hovering above him. Fernando nodded, but realising Mark couldn’t see him he open his mouth. 

“Mmm…” he murmured, loving the way it affected Mark’s breathing. 

“I’ve got my fingers around your cock,” Mark said and Fernando took hold of himself, gasping at the sudden feeling of contact. “My god, you feel fucking amazing.” With his eyes closed, Fernando could truly believe it was Mark that had hold of him, not himself. “I might just hold you, bet you would cum anyway,” Mark’s voice was like velvet and Fernando was fighting with the urge to thrust into his hand. 

“Mark, please,” Fernando panted, that feeling in his navel building. 

“You’ve got to stay still,” Mark muttered, reading Fernando through his exposed state over the line. 

“Please…” Fernando begged down the phone, craving the friction. Mark smirked at Fernando’s pleading. 

“I can feel your tension, you’ve got to relax,” Mark purred down the phone. Fernando’s hips bucked but his hand didn’t move. This was torturous.

“Am. Am relaxed. Mark. Por favor. Por favor.” Fernando’s Spanish broke through Mark’s head and made him drop his teasing act. 

“OK,” Mark sighed and Fernando moved his hand. The relief from the build of tension was insane and Fernando couldn’t stop his moans escaping from his lips. 

“Fernando, you’re killing me, mate,” Mark sighed, making Fernando smile. 

“Si, Mark… Más…Más!” 

“If I was there… You’d be screaming my name,” Mark’s voice kept Fernando panting as he stroked himself with a pace that was picking up. 

“Si…Mark… Dime cómo… Dime cómo…” 

“In English?” Mark asked and Fernando had to try and focus to translate his request. 

“Tell me how,” he let out breathlessly, feeling the pre-cum forming on his tip. 

“I would slowly slide my hand all they way up you and press my finger briefly on your tip,” Fernando complied and slowly dragged his hand up his length, smearing the pre-cum on his tip as he pressed his finger gently onto his tip. The shot of ecstasy that followed made him cry out. 

“Si! Si! Tan cerca! Tan cerca! Por favor, Mark, por favor! Que me ayude!”

“Fernando… Fuck… I can’t… What are you… Fuck!” Mark’s words were broken and Fernando was trying to understand what he wanted. Fernando muttered the first words of English his brain could form. 

“So close” Fernando panted, feeling the knot in his stomach was soon to release. 

“I want to hear you,” Mark said breathlessly as Fernando felt his orgasm roll over him. He let his moan ring loudly as the warmth ran down his cock and he felt the rush of warm cum spill onto his stomach. Mark’s own cries joined Fernando’s as he to came, making the Spaniard continue on Mark’s wave of pleasure. The two men just panted down the line to each other, trying to catch their breath. Mark was the first to talk. 

“When are you getting here?” He said and Fernando heard him walking across a tiled floor with bare feet, probably heading towards the bathroom. Fernando just laid on his bed, letting the feeling of his orgasm set into his muscles, feeling totally relaxed and never wanting to move. 

“Tomorrow,” he muttered, blinking up at the ceiling and bringing himself crashing into reality. No Mark. Mark was in England. He felt as if there bond was being pulled taught and he feared this was what it would be like after the season ended. 

“I better learn Spanish fast then,” Mark said, making Fernando push those scary thoughts of the future out of his head and laugh at Mark’s joke. 

\- - - - - - -

Fernando was sitting on the sofa in Mark’s house. There was normalness in the foreign surroundings that made Fernando almost feel like he was home. That is, if it wasn’t for the rain that was streaming down the windowpane. He was watching it as it teased him. Springing around happily on the ground beyond the window. Fernando wanted to go for a run, but Mark had him here, sitting on the sofa and watching some confusing programme with a man who ran a lot and a disappearing blue box. Mark was in the kitchen, getting lunch. He had picked Fernando up from the airport about two hours ago, and it had been a forty-five minute journey home. He looked down at his watch and registered it had just gone twelve. The kitchen door opened and Fernando folded his arms, pouting at the television. 

“Take this a sec,” Mark said, smiling and handing a plate of sandwiches to Fernando. He took them and Mark sat down beside him, draping his arm over Fernando’s shoulders and taking the plate back. “Thank you.” He waited until Fernando had taken a sandwich before he took one himself and placed the plate on the coffee table. 

“What is this?” Fernando asked, indicating to the television. Mark smiled at the frown of confusion on Fernando’s face. 

“It’s Doctor Who,”

“Why is he flying the Titanic in space?” Fernando said taking the first bite of his sandwich and chewing slowing, still frowning at the running man.

“Just something he does,” Mark shrugged, not really having a great concept of the programme himself. He liked this episode because it had Kyle Minogue in it and a character called Alonso. 

“This does not make sense,” Fernando said, taking another bite from his sandwich and looking out of the window. Mark turned to face him. 

“I thought you’d like it considering there is an Alonso,”

“This does not make it better. He is nothing like me, no help,” Fernando sighed. Mark laughed under his breath at Fernando. He probably hated the fact that this very British character had his name. 

“Would you like me to turn it off?” Fernando turned back to him.

“I would like to go for a run,” Mark sighed, unsurprised. 

“Fernando it’s pissing it down. You’ll get saturated,” Mark said as he turned off the television. Fernando folded his legs up onto the chair and faced Mark. 

“I would like to train,”

“You need to slow down on your training shit, mate. Don’t be stupid about this.” Fernando sighed. 

“So what do you propose we do?” Mark shrugged. 

“I’ve got nothing planned until tomorrow so whatever you want,” Mark held up a hand before Fernando could speak. “But no training. We can find something to do here,” Fernando gave Mark a grin that made him feel a little uneasy. Like Fernando had found a way to get his cake and eat it too. Mark swallowed. 

“Whatever I want?” Fernando asked innocently, but Mark didn’t buy it.

“Yes,” Mark said sceptically.

“And you won’t say no?” Mark stared at Fernando, trying to read him. It was impossible; he was hiding what he wanted until Mark agreed. 

“I suppose not,” Fernando smiled picking up another sandwich. 

“My back it aching a little,” Fernando stated, making Mark look at him sceptically and worried at the same time.

“Do you want some paracetamol?” Fernando shook his head.

“Just a little tightness in my muscles…” Fernando looked up at Mark through his eyelashes and knew the Australian knew what he was asking for. 

“No,”

“You said you wouldn’t say that,” 

“Fernando, this is your back we are talking about. If I fuck it up by giving you a massage then you could be out of the races until next year. I'm not up for doing that,”

“But I’m better-!”

“-It’s been a few days, you can’t be better,”

“The doctor’s say I am fine, Mark. Who else do you need to tell you?” Fernando ate the rest of his sandwich and crawled up the chair onto Mark’s lap. He straddled his waist, but kept their jeans from touching by about an inch. Mark sighed. 

“If you really want a massage I’ll call Roger. He’s great and he won’t do anymore damage,” Fernando shook his head.

“I don’t want Roger; if I wanted a physio I would have called my own. I'm really fine, Mark…” Fernando placed small kisses up Mark’s neck until he reached his ear. “Por favor,” He purred seductively in Mark’s ear, making a shiver run down his spine. Mark was torn between not wanting to hurt Fernando and not being able to resist that voice. He placed his hands gingerly on Fernando’s lower back to support him. 

“I’m not sure,”

“But that’s not a no,” Fernando mused as he continued to kiss up and down Mark’s neck. Mark tried to think about anything but the pleasure Fernando was emitting to him. It was very difficult. 

“I think you’re creeping for a different kind of massage now, mate,” Mark joked breathlessly, fighting the urge to close the inch between their jeans. Fernando smiled into his neck, loving the way he could undo Mark. Not that it wasn’t two-way. There had been a few times over the last week where Mark had caught up to him and whispered something in his ear that made him want to jump the Australian. Words. They were Mark’s talent. He didn’t even have to do anything. Just the way he said something or the words themselves sent shivers down Fernando’s spine. And his accent…

“Not creeping… Just asking,” Fernando said in a confident voice as he began sucking on the skin below his lips. Mark moved away and Fernando frowned. 

“Fine, but if it hurts, even a little, you have to tell me,” Fernando sighed in relief and kissed Mark briefly. 

“OK,”

“I don’t want you pretending to be fine if you’re not. If I do something and it hurts, you say and stop me.” Fernando pouted a little, ready to argue, but Mark cut across him. “No arguments. You have to promise you will say or I won’t do it,”

“OK,”

“You promise,”

“I promise, Mark,” Fernando said, moving his hands to Mark’s shoulders and rubbing gently at his pressure point, trying to relax him. Mark sat for a moment with his eyes closed, letting Fernando continue on his shoulders. 

“I thought I was the one supposed to be doing the massaging,” He sighed with a smile. Fernando brought his lips close to Mark’s ear. 

“Can’t have my masseur tense, can I,” Fernando planted another kiss on Mark’s lips and Mark opened his eyes. He ran his hands slowly down Fernando’s back, adding a little pressure to see if Fernando really wasn’t in that much pain. Fernando sighed contently with no pain in his eyes. Happy, Mark drew circles on his back, still experimenting – but satisfied. 

“Don’t tease, Mark,” Fernando smiled looking down on the Australian. Mark smiled back and dropped his hands from Fernando’s back. 

“Alright, take your shirt off and lay down,” Mark said. Fernando got off his lap and Mark moved into his bedroom to get some oil. When he returned, Fernando was lying on his stomach, had used the sofa cushions to prop his head up slightly and was looking into the doorframe where Mark had appeared. The dispersed light from the rain-specked window threw a pattern of light against Fernando’s tanned skin. He moved over to see Fernando’s tattoo glowing off his back and resisted the urge to taste his skin. Still weary of Fernando’s back, Mark crouched next to the sofa and put some oil on his hands. Fernando looked over to him. 

“Do not be ridiculous, Mark,” Fernando said, indicating he should sit on him rather than crouch beside. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Mark muttered, focusing on his hands. Fernando’s hand caught his face before he realised the Spaniard had moved. 

“You won’t. Trust me.” Fernando punctuated his phrases with kisses and pulled Mark towards him. Mark nodded and Fernando retook his position lying down, resting both his hands under his head. Once he was confortable, Mark straddled his waist and sat down lightly. 

“Are you OK?” Mark asked. He heard Fernando snicker at his comment and rolled his eyes, rubbing his hands together making sure they were warm. 

“Yes, Mark, am fine,” Fernando smiled over to him. Mark leaned down so his lips were right next to Fernando’s ear. 

“This might be a little cold,” Mark said in a quiet but strong voice. Fernando couldn’t understand it. There was nothing sexual about that comment, but it made his skin tingle in anticipation, made him slightly light headed as his blood ran down between his legs. Mark, unaware of the change in the man below him, pushed himself back up and gently placed a hand on a pressure point in Fernando’s left shoulder. One Roger always paid a lot of attention to when he was massaging Mark. Mark focused on remembering what Roger had told him that day when he had shown him some of the massages he did and worked on Fernando’s shoulder in a similar way Roger did to him. 

“How’s the pressure?” Mark asked. But Fernando remained silent. Mark worried that Fernando was in too much pain to talk. He lifted his arms away. “Fernando?”

“Mmm…?” Fernando muttered in a distant voice. Mark knew that tone too well and he smirked. Fernando wasn’t in too much pain; his movements were obviously causing the man below him too much pleasure. 

“The pressure, is it alright?” Mark fought to keep his tone even. 

“Good… good,” 

“Don’t need it a little… Harder,” Mark said seductively and felt Fernando squirm slightly below him.

“No. No… Pressure s’good,” Fernando kept his eyes closed and tried to focus on the release of tension in his back rather than how it was making him feel. But it was so good. So fucking good. And Mark now knew how much he was enjoying it. 

“Good. I’ll carry on then,” Mark smiled as he returned to Fernando’s shoulder. As he worked across and down Fernando’s back, he used the opportunity to explore his body. Working out what hand brushes or moments of slight pleasure aired most sensitive to the Spaniard. Fernando’s normal, unreadable façade was gone and Mark could read him like an open book. He was amazingly vulnerable below Mark and Mark had never felt closer to him. Once he had finished, an hour later, he kept going. Rubbing soothingly against those sweet spots he had discovered until his slid his hand just below the waistband of Fernando’s jeans. The Spaniard below gasped at the sudden new rush of pleasure. 

“That not my back,” He somehow managed to say, though he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t want Mark to stop. Mark smirked down at him and moved his hands away, returning them to Fernando’s sides. He ran them down his sides and appreciated the shiver it evoked from the man below him. He brought his hands together in the small of Fernando’s back and ran them teasingly close to the waistband of Fernando’s jeans. Fernando fidgeted below him until Mark’s fingers accidently hooked back to their old position. 

“I thought you said that wasn’t your back,” Mark smirked, getting a firmer grip of Fernando’s jeans. Fernando turned his head to face him. 

“Tense,” Fernando stated, rocking his hips back into Mark and brushing the seam of Mark jeans against him. Mark hissed at the contact and laid himself on top of the Spaniard unhooking his fingers. Fernando swallowed and turned his head to look into Mark’s eyes. 

“I bet you are,” Mark muttered as he pressed his lips down onto Fernando’s neck, sucking. Fernando gasped trying to keep control of his breathing as Mark’s fingers slid down the back of his jeans and rested on the ring of muscle that was anticipating him. Mark smirked into Fernando’s neck, releasing the skin he was sucking on. Fernando was squirming again, trying to move Mark’s fingers, but Mark kept them there. He placed his spare hand on Fernando’s shoulder to stop him moving. 

“Mark,” Fernando purred, trying to rock back into the Australian. Mark kept himself planted. 

“Yes, Fernando,” Mark asked in his seductive tone, planting kisses on his neck.

“Please…” Fernando looked up into Mark’s eyes and the lust that shone through his coffee-brown irises made Mark see the red there that so often occupied the Spaniard’s chest. It took all his power to not take the Spaniard right there without a second thought. But it suddenly occurred to him he could. He was allowed. Fernando was here with him. He was his. And Fernando was asking for him. Mark moved both his hands at the same time, sliding them under Fernando and into his boxers, taking hold of his erection. Fernando moaned and closed his eyes, falling into Mark’s hold. 

“A lot of tension here,” Mark purred as he slowly stroked Fernando. He was teasing him; not giving him what he wanted but enough to keep him asking. “I think I might need to do something about that.” Mark placed kisses onto Fernando’s neck as he squirmed trying to get more friction from Mark. Realising he was fighting a lost battle, he moved his hands from under his head and wrapped them behind him, pulling Mark closer to him. As Mark stroked down Fernando’s length, Fernando slid his hands down Mark’s trousers and drew the rim of the tight circle of muscles. “Fuck, Fernando,”

“Too slow…” Fernando wined, putting a little more pressure on Mark. Mark moved his hands so one was cupping Fernando’s balls and the other hovered over his tip. 

“Don’t want it to be over before it started, do you?” Fernando tried to move to bring Mark’s hesitating finger down back onto him. Mark didn’t move. 

“Tease,”

“You say that too much,”

“Then prove me wrong,” Fernando felt a small surge of power as he pressed his finger onto the outskirts of Mark’s ring of muscle and felt the Australian shake with pleasure. It was short-lived. Mark pushed his finger into the tip of his cock, rubbing down hard and making Fernando exasperate indecencies. Fernando’s hands fell limp, only staying in place due to their capture under Mark’s jeans. Mark rocked his hips into Fernando trying to find some friction, but it wasn’t enough. Fernando’s cries from below him had him begging for more. He released Fernando’s cock to a whine from the man below him.

“You have no idea how fucking hot you are,” Mark murmured into Fernando’s ear before moving so he could catch Fernando in a kiss. Fernando’s lust and need transferred into his kiss as he tried to get as close to Mark as he could. He tugged on his shirt but it still wasn’t enough; he needed more. The smell of Fernando’s arousal caught Mark and he pulled Fernando closer, using his hands as they kissed to slide the Spaniard’s jeans and underwear down. Fernando made to roll over but Mark stopped him.

“Mar-”

“-I’m not risking anything with your back,” Mark said, brushing the hair out of Fernando’s face as he discarded the rest of Fernando’s clothes. Mark kissed him again before pushing himself off Fernando and walking out the room to retrieve a condom and some lube. When he returned Fernando was lying on his side, shamelessly displaying himself to Mark. Mark’s eyes fell directly to his swollen cock and felt his own erection harden. He put on a small show of stripping for Fernando and knew it was greatly received by the sounds of pleasure the Spaniard was making. Mark left the things on the coffee table and moved over to Fernando, who rolled onto his back and pulled Mark close. Their lips connected and there was a battle for power with a clash of tongues. Lust was overpowering common sense and Fernando was desperate to make Mark feel as good as he did. He grasped Mark’s cock emitting another pleasant hiss from the Australian, but Mark overpowered his tongue and pushed himself into Fernando. Mark let Fernando work him until he felt like more would be too much. He broke their kiss and looked down at Fernando, cupping his face. 

“Roll over,” He murmured in Fernando’s ear. Fernando protested and pouted up at Mark.

“But I-”

“-Fernando, there are more important things,” Mark said, brushing his lips on Fernando’s. He knew Fernando wanted to do this whilst Mark fucked him but it was too risky. Mark couldn’t risk ruining the recovery he had already started. Fernando looked into his eyes. 

“You make me sound like an old man,” Fernando pouted, making Mark snicker. 

“I’m not trying to,”

“But you do… I have no back problems, they can come when I am old and retired,”

“Or they could come now if you try and be stupid. You need to be ready to race, and I don’t want to ruin that. When you’re better, I promise,”

“But I am better now,”

“Fernando… Don’t,” Mark sighed, closing his eyes. He wanted to do this more than anything, but he couldn’t risk hurting Fernando. “I’ll be here the whole time,” He kissed Fernando again and finally the Spaniard nodded. Mark lifted himself off of him so he could roll over and let his weight fall gently back onto Fernando’s exposed back. He traced the tattoo on Fernando’s back before sweeping his lips across it, instantaneously making Fernando moan beneath him. He held onto Fernando’s side as he leant over, catching up the bottle of lube and condom, sliding the condom onto himself and placing some lube on his hand. The Spanish poured from Fernando’s mouth as Mark prepared him, pushing one, then two, then three fingers into him. He relished in Fernando’s words, letting them roll over him, having no clue what they meant. In some respects, he loved the fact he couldn’t understand Fernando when he was at his most vulnerable; it still gave him the impression of the strong, unfazed Fernando that he knew from the paddock. But he also tingled to know what those phrases meant. He lined himself up. 

“Are you OK?” Mark asked, running a hand over his shoulder, soothingly. Fernando turned his head to look back at Mark. 

“Si… Por favor…” Mark guided his cock into Fernando’s exposed hole and gently pushed himself in. He was weary of Fernando’s back as he slid himself in fully, just holding the position and watching Fernando. Fernando buried his face into the cushion below him to muffle his cries. Mark laid himself down on top of Fernando brining his lips next to Fernando’s ear. 

“I’m right here,” Mark muttered comfortingly, linking his right hand with Fernando’s. Fernando griped tightly as he tried to catch his breath. He rocked his hips back encouraging Mark to move and Mark picked up a gentle rhythm kissing into the back of Fernando’s neck. It didn’t take long for the two of them to fall back into the almost state they were in earlier. Fernando turned his head to look up at Mark. 

“Tan cerca…. Mark… Por favor…” Mark took in Fernando’s words and released himself, feeling Fernando’s arse clench as his orgasm rolled through him. Still on his high from his own orgasm, he pulled out and rolled Fernando over to finish him off, sending warm liquid over both of their stomachs. He fell down on top of Fernando and kissed him passionately, resting his forehead on Fernando’s as they both regained there normal breathing pattern. He looked down onto Fernando’s face and saw the recognition of sleep in his dropping, heavy eyelids. 

“Come on,” Mark said, pushing himself off Fernando. Fernando looked up at Mark with no intentions of moving. He reached for him to pull him back into his hold. Mark smirked. “You can’t stay here, lets clean you up then you can go to sleep,” Fernando rolled away from Mark, burying his face in the back of the sofa and presented his tattoo to Mark. Mark rolled his eyes and moved forwards to pull Fernando up. 

“Mark, why I have to move?” Fernando said, incoherently, the aftermath of his orgasm slurring his words. 

“Because I said so,” He pulled Fernando’s shoulder so he rolled over to look up at him. He was pouting. 

“I don’t want,”

“I know you don’t but you’ve got to,” He easily scooped Fernando up, placing one arm below his knees and another supporting his back. He took a few steps before Fernando protested. 

“I can walk, Mark,” 

“Yes, but now I’ve got you I'm not letting you go,” Mark pushed his lips into Fernando’s and the Spaniard wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck. Mark moved through the house and into his bedroom. He laid Fernando delicately on the bed and moved into the bathroom to get a flannel to clean him up. When he returned, Fernando had fallen asleep. Mark was gentle in his touch as to not awaken Fernando and pulled Fernando’s purple/blue pyjamas onto his legs after he was clean and dry. Once Mark had finished making Fernando decent, he looked down at the wonderful man lying on his bed. He felt so lucky, so privileged. He couldn’t believe that the man lying in front of him was his. And he could say that, even if only in private. He smiled widely as he pulled the duvet from below the sleeping Spaniard and wrapped him up. Mark placed a gentle kiss on Fernando’s lips and forehead before turning from the room and heading out. Just as he reached the doorframe he heard Fernando mutter in his sleep and turned back to face him, his name sparking his attention. 

“Mark… Te amor…” Mark smiled as he left, having no idea what Fernando had said and wishing more than ever that he could understand Spanish. 

He clean himself up before crossing back into the lounge and pulling on his discarded clothes from earlier, piling Fernando’s up and placing them high on the side. He crossed to the kitchen and let his dogs – Simba and Shadow - out. They bounded happily towards him and looked around for the source of the new scent in the house. He crouched down and scratched behind their ears. 

“It’s alright, I’ll introduce him later,” he cooed at his pets. “You’re going to love him, I know I do…” Mark paused, considering a thought that he hadn’t realised he had thought about before. And it seemed like the most simplest, clearest thing in the world. Something that had always been true, he’d just never let himself believe it. But now he had Fernando. And everything felt right. His eyes fell on his closed bedroom door as he finished his sentence, relieved to finally let the words out in the air. 

“I love him.”


	17. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don't have to worry about being a number one, number two, or number three. Numbers don't have anything to do with placement. Numbers only have something to do with repetition.” ~Ornette Coleman~

Mark looked over when he saw his bedroom door open. He registered the messy tangled state of Fernando’s hair, the plain white shirt Fernando was sporting that hugged closely to his toned torso and the way he was sleepily rubbing his eyes before he flicked his eyes back to the football he was watching. He looks so fucking hot. Mark mused, his hands absent-mindedly stroking Shadow’s head. Fernando had about ten seconds to take in the relaxed scene of Mark lying on the sofa with his dogs before one of them bounded upon him. Mark swung his legs off the chair and lent forwards. 

“Simba! Stay down! Sorry about that one,” Mark got up and lent on the doorframe, studying Fernando and Simba. Simba was sniffing at Fernando’s legs suspiciously. “He’s very protective, not so keep on new things,” Mark gestured over his shoulder to where Shadow was sitting on the sofa with alert ears. “That one’s a big softie,” Mark watched as Fernando crouched down to scratch behind Simba’s ears and Simba pushed close to Fernando, craving his attention. 

“What’s his name?” Fernando asked, not taking his eyes off the dog sitting between his crouched legs. 

“Simba,” Mark said, outstretching an arm. Fernando looked up. “Come and meet Shadow,” Fernando took Mark’s hand and let himself be lead to the sofa. Mark gestured with his free hand to the grey dog looking up at them. Simba followed, pushing himself in between Fernando and Mark. 

“These are good names,” Fernando said, letting go of Mark to stroke Shadow. Shadow rolled onto his back and Fernando rubbed it, making Shadow’s tail wag faster. ‘Shadow and Simba…”

“They like you, mate,” Mark said, rubbing his hand across Fernando’s shoulders. Fernando rose back up to standing and wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck. Mark’s hands fell onto Fernando’s hips. 

“So, now you are never letting me go, what are you going to do with me?” Fernando asked, evoking a small laugh from Mark. 

“Well, it’s a bit late now, so how about dinner and a film then we can get some rest. Busy plan for tomorrow”

“As long as this is not PR stuff I will not mind,” Fernando teased, pressing his lips against Mark’s. Mark sighed contently as Fernando broke away from him, opening his eyes slowly as to relish in Fernando’s touch. “How long did I sleep?” Mark looked down at his watch. It was now 18:30 and he had left Fernando to sleep about 14:30. 

“About four hours,”

“Four! You should have woken me!” 

“You were sleeping. I was taking care of you,” Mark said, nuzzling Fernando’s cheek. Fernando exasperated in an annoyed but relaxed manner. 

“Is this what I have to expect now I’m here; you taking care of me,”

“That’s right,”

“But I’m not injured. Am fine,”

“But you’re my guest and its my job as your boyfriend to make you happy,” Fernando looked into Mark’s eyes, slightly stunned. They had never used that word before. Boyfriend. It made Fernando smile and he couldn’t wipe the happiness off his face – not that he was trying to. He was Mark’s boyfriend. And that in turn made Mark his. 

“Who said you were my boyfriend?” Fernando teased. 

“I assumed when you let me…” Mark’s voice drifted off as he ran his hands slowly down Fernando’s side. There was no need for the end of his sentence; Fernando understood. Their eyes connected as they both stared lustfully into each other. Simba decided to end the moment by squeezing himself between the two of them and forcing them apart. Mark rolled his eyes whilst Fernando laughed at the protective manner of the dog. “I sometimes wish you were more like him,” Mark said down to the dog, indicating with his thumb to Shadow who was laying relaxed on the sofa. Simba just looked up at him, cocking his head to the side trying to understand. Fernando sat on the floor and ushered Simba over. He sat between Fernando’s outstretched legs with his back to the Spaniard still looking up at Mark as Fernando began to stroke him. 

“So, chef Mark, what will be for dinner?” Fernando asked, joining Simba in looking up at Mark. Mark folded his arms; amused by the way Simba appeared to be already protecting Fernando. 

“Pasta? I’m afraid there is little else I can cook. It’s that or a takeaway,” 

“Pasta sounds good. Much better than takeaway.” Fernando wrinkled his nose at the thought and Mark smirked to himself as he passed into the kitchen, going to make a start on the cooking. 

“You want anything particular with it?” Mark called through to Fernando as he filled up the saucepan to boil the water. 

“Surprise me…” Fernando called back. There was a pause before he spoke again. “But no Sushi,”

“Sushi? Why would you have Sushi with pasta?” Mark asked, walking back into the lounge as the water boiled, throwing a tea towel over his shoulder and leaning a hand down on the back of the sofa. Fernando was looking up at the television, still running his fingers through Simba’s fur. He turned to Mark and shrugged. 

“I don’t know, I just don’t like Sushi,”

“Have you ever tried it?”

“No. The concept is weird. Raw fish,” Fernando wrinkled his nose again in disgust and turned back to the television.

“Right, got it. No Sushi with the pasta,” Mark mused as he headed back into the kitchen. He poured to dry pasta into the boiled water and set the sauce to heat next to it, setting the timer and returning to the lounge. “It’ll be about ten minutes,” Mark said falling into the sofa and relaxing back, his eyes falling onto the television again. Fernando moved himself so he was leaning against Mark’s leg with his knees tucked in close to him and his arms resting gently around them. Mark’s hand fell to Fernando’s hair. With the soothing movements Mark was doing on Fernando’s head, the Spaniard felt his eyelids drooping and he blinked his eyes rapidly, forcing himself to stay awake. He had already wasted four hours of his time with Mark asleep and he wasn’t prepared to waste any more. 

A thought suddenly hit Mark so hard that he nearly stopped breathing. And he couldn’t comprehend the though because it was too much. Fernando was here, with him. But for how long? It was amazing at the moment, perfect even. They were wrapped up in the honeymoon period of their relationship and were seeing each other at least four times a week. But what would happen after the end of the season? After the honeymoon period had subsided? Would they still be what there were? The secret kisses and brushes of limbs as they passed in the paddock. The hidden words whispered in the others ear and the constant competition to leave the other in an embarrassed, aroused state in a public place. Would it all disappear when they couldn’t see each other as much as they could now? And would showing up to support Fernando at races seem odd and present a new speculation fro the press? Mark felt as if all those domestic, ordinary fantasies he had had about those little moments in life were so far out of his reach it was incomprehensible. And he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. 

The timer bleeping in the kitchen forced him to shut away that feeling. But it was hard. Fernando watched him as he left for the kitchen, not saying a word. He knew something was wrong. Simba followed Mark through and stayed ridiculously close to his legs, looking up at him as if trying to read him. Fernando sighed. There would be no point in asking. 

Fernando pushed himself onto his feet and moved through to the kitchen. He stood in the doorframe and just watched as Mark built their dinner. With two identical plates in his hand, he laid them onto the table and lit a candle that was sat in the middle. He turned and was startled by Fernando’s presence; not having realised the Spaniard was watching him. He was so caught up in his dreaded thought that he had phased out the entire room. Mark gave Fernando a small smile and gestured to the table.

“Bon appétit,” Mark said as Fernando moved into the room. He waited for Fernando to sit down before he sat himself. 

“Is ‘provecho’ in Spanish,” Fernando smiled, resting his elbows on the table and reading the sadness in Mark’s eyes. 

“Pour-oh-vet-chew?” Mark asked, getting a small laugh from Fernando at his attempt to speak Spanish.

“No,” Fernando smiled. He used his hands to block out the individual syllables. “Prr-oh-ve-cho,” Mark lost him somewhere around his perfect rolled ‘r’. “Provecho,”

“Provecho,” Mark repeated, thinking he was ruining the word by taking away the Spanish flare Fernando gave it. Fernando smiled enthusiastically. 

“Si, this. Provecho,” 

“Well then, provecho, mate,” Mark said, gesturing to the food in front of them. Fernando smiled and picked up his fork. 

“Though we are in England, so we say: ‘have good meal’” 

“You guys have got language worked out better than us,” Mark commented, waiting for Fernando to try his pasta. Fernando smirked at his comment at he lifted the first piece to his lips. He looked up at Mark as he chewed. 

“Is good,” he smiled once he had swallowed. “Aren’t you going to…” Fernando gestured to Mark’s untouched plate with his fork and Mark started. There were a few minutes of silence as the pair sat eating in the candlelight – the dim lighting of the room making everything feel more intimate. Fernando loved the way the flickering light from the table caught Mark’s jawline and illuminated it. But when he looked up to Mark’s eyes and saw the sadness still residing there he felt himself deflate. 

“Mark,” he said lightly making the Australian look up at him with a false, small smile. The smile faltered when he clocked Fernando’s worried expression. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing,” Mark said to his pasta. Fernando placed his hand on top of Mark’s that was resting on the table. 

“Please,”

“Just a stupid thought,” Mark pushed a piece of pasta across his plate distractedly.

“We all have stupid thoughts from time to time,” Fernando cooed, willing for Mark to open up to him. He may be able to understand Mark’s emotions fairly well but he was no mind reader. “I’m sure you can tell me,” Mark shook his head, still watching his pasta and trying not to focus on the soothing circles Fernando was drawing on the back of his hand. “OK. Well, how about you tell me your stupid thought and then I will tell you one of mine,”

“You go first,”

“No. Because mine is not making me sad,” Mark looked up at Fernando before sighing deeply. He focused on his pasta as he spoke. 

“I was just thinking about what happens after…” Mark lost his confidence and his voice. 

“After?” Fernando leant in getting as close to Mark as he could. 

“The season.” Mark breathed out. He was shocked when Fernando was by his side, cupping his face; he hadn’t heard his chair move. But he was forcing Mark to look at him. 

“Nothing.” Fernando said in his normal tone. Mark was unconvinced. 

“You don’t know that,”

“Mark, we cannot let this ruin the time we have. I do not plan on changing anything and I don’t think you do either. We are here in this moment right now and thoughts of the future or the past cannot be lingered on. Whatever happens; happens. We will make this work, though,”

“But we’ll hardly ever see-”

“-Only if we choose not to. I want to, so I will. If you’ll have me,” Fernando added his last comment with a wink that made Mark smile.

“I’ll always have you,” Mark said, bringing their lips together for a brief moment. Fernando slid away from Mark and returned back to his chair and pasta. Mark smiled doing likewise. 

“Though if I am coming more often then I will have to teach you to cook more than pasta,” Fernando said, placing another bit into his mouth. 

“Is it not up to your standards?” Mark joked.

“Is wonderful; you made it. But I cannot live on pasta. I would miss Spanish cuisine too much,”

“Is it as easy as making pasta?” 

“No, but I can show you if you like,” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Mark smiled, laying his fork across his empty plate. 

“Like I hold you to many things you have said in the past,” Fernando said, beginning to clear up the plates. Mark grabbed his wrists. 

“What are you doing?”

“Clearing up.” 

“That’s my job; you’re my guest,”

“I am helping because you did all the cooking. You cook I clean,” Mark took the plates from Fernando’s hand and walked towards the dishwasher with them. 

“Sorry, mate, I didn’t agree to that,” Mark smiled, planting a kiss on Fernando’s cheek as he passed the now standing Spaniard. Fernando folded his arms. 

“At least let me help with something,”

“Nope. Now go be a good guest and get your arse on that sofa,” Mark said as he wrapped his arms around Fernando’s waist and planted another kiss on his cheek.

“Do not like being the guest,” Fernando commented. 

“I know,” 

“Let me do something,”

“Fine,” Mark let him go, rolling his eyes, and crossed to the kitchen. He extracted two wine glasses and handed them over to Fernando. “Can you take these through to the lounge for me and they relax please?” Fernando gave Mark a not amused look before taking the glasses from his hands and stalking into the other room. Mark watched him leave before calling out to him: “If you still want to help you can come and press the buttons on the dishwasher,” in a jokey tone which got him a reply in Spanish that he didn’t think he needed much help with translating. He smirked as he set the dishwasher going and picked up a bottle of wine before following Fernando through to the lounge. The dogs hadn’t moved from their position across the room where Fernando entered, but at the sight of Mark they bounded happily towards him. He gave them each a scratch on the head before falling into the vacant seat beside Fernando presenting the wine to him. “Good?”

“Yes,” Fernando smiled as Mark uncorked the wine and poured it into the glasses. Fernando watched him and snuggled under his arm when he sat back. Mark left the two glasses on the table and wrapped an arm around Fernando. 

“What do you want to watch?” Mark said into Fernando’s temple. Fernando shrugged and Mark shut the television off. He got up moving over to the stereo system and put on a relaxing album that his mum had given him after the 2010 Turkey Grand Prix. Fernando closed his eyes and sighed into the music, holding his wine glass in his hand. He took a mouthful as Mark moved back over to him and placed the glass back down, curling back into Mark’s arms. 

Mark lent his head back against the back of the sofa, closing his eyes and feeling at peace with himself. Fernando was here and he wasn’t going anywhere. Not at this moment anyway. And that was what mattered. Fernando’s personal motto echoed in his head as the man himself ran his fingers soothingly along Mark’s thigh. But this wasn’t an attempt at arousal; it was compassionate, delicate. Mark felt himself drift temporarily into sleep, bringing himself back with a sudden nod of his head. 

Neither Fernando nor he remembered leaving the lounge that night to go to bed.

\- - -

Fernando woke at two in the morning with an aching neck. The dogs were both dozing by Mark’s feet as Fernando looked up at Mark, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Mark’s head had rolled back and Fernando could hear his breath inhaling and exhaling through the small gap of his mouth. Fernando rubbed his neck as he rolled it and sat up. He shook Mark gently.

“Mark,” he whispered down at him. Mark grumbled something incoherent and Fernando persisted. 

“What, mate?” Mark muttered keeping his eyes closed. 

“We need to go to bed,” Fernando got up and stopped the music. The sudden silence seemed to echo around and Fernando felt very alone. He moved back to Mark. 

“Five minutes,” Mark muttered, still not moving. Fernando shook him again. 

“You can have six more hours after you have moved,” He pulled on Mark’s arm and eventually got the Australian standing. Mark ran his palms over his eyes before setting his hands on Fernando’s hips and looking down into his face. 

“You really are stubborn, aren’t you,” Mark stated with a small smile pulling at his lips. Fernando held onto Mark’s shoulders and pushed himself up onto his tiptoes. 

“Not stubborn, just don’t want you to ache during our busy day,” Fernando said and Mark kissed him. 

“I love you, “ Mark said. The casualness of his words caught Fernando off guard. Mark immediately cursed himself. He wasn’t sure if Fernando was ready for them. It had technically only been a couple of weeks that they had been in a relationship but Mark felt like it was so much longer. And that’s why the words fell so easily from his lips. He watched Fernando closely as the younger man fell back to his normal height, one of his hands slipping down slightly, resting on Mark’s torso. 

“You…” Fernando started in a state of shock. 

“Pretend I didn’t say it,” Mark said, catching Fernando’s face in his hands. “Just pretend it never happened.”

“No… I can’t…” Fernando said with his eyes focused on a spot to the right of Mark’s face. Mark panicked.

“It’s alright. Just forget I said it. People say all kinds of stupid things when they’re half asleep,”

“I can’t…”

“Please, Fernando. It was nothing. It just slipped out, but it doesn’t have to count for anything. I’m tired I don’t know what I’m saying,”

“I don’t want-”

“-Fernando I understand. You don’t have to expla-”

“-No. I don’t want to forget… Because… Because… I love you too,” Fernando brought his eyes to meet Mark’s and saw the confusion and happiness fighting there. It made Fernando laugh as he wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck. “I can’t forget and I won’t. Because I love you too, Mark. I love you,” Fernando easily closed the gap between Mark and himself and caught Mark in the most love filled kiss they had ever shared. “I love you,” He smiled as they broke apart. 

“You meant it? You don’t just feel like you have to because I said-”

“-No. I honestly love you. I suppose I have for a long time. It feels great to say this. I love Mark Webber!”

“He loves you too, mate,” Mark smiled, radiating Fernando’s joy back at him. Fernando kissed him again and the pair just smiled at each other for what seemed like an age. But neither of them cared. They would stay in this moment forever if they could. Mark released Fernando from his hold and entwined their fingers, pulling him towards his bedroom. He left Fernando on the bed whilst he changed into his pyjamas and was greeted fondly as he climbed under the sheet with the man he loved. And the man who loved him back. Mark couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. Fernando curled back close into his hold and Mark sighed contently. 

“Good night, Fernando,”

“Good night, Mark,” There was a pause. 

“Love you,” Fernando looked up into Mark’s face and caught his lips again.

“Love you too,” 

\- - - - -

“Fernando, wake up,” Fernando had been having such a nice dream. But now he was fighting to keep his eyes closed and was irritated at the person waving his foot in the air. He hugged closer to the pillow his was holding.

“Mark, get off my foot,” 

“Well wake up then!” Mark dropped Fernando’s foot back down onto the bed and it sprung up slightly. He moved to the side of the bed closest the Fernando ready to shake his shoulders until he woke up. 

“Am awake,” Fernando kept his hold on the pillow but roll onto his back looking up at Mark with his eyes still closed. “See?” Mark signed.

“If you’re awake how many fingers am I holding up?” With his eyes still closed, Fernando pondered this. He had a one in five chance of getting this right as he could feel Mark’s second hand resting on the bed beside him. 

“Three?”

“Lucky guess,” Mark said making Fernando smile. Suddenly Fernando felt Mark’s lips on his own and he wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck placing one hand on the back of his head to pull him closer. He rested his forehead on Mark’s as he broke the kiss to speck.

“I could get used to waking up to this,” Fernando sighed happily. He lent forwards to retake Mark’s lips but the Australian moved easily out of his slack grip. Fernando pouted up at the ceiling, still keeping his eyes closed. 

“You can have more when you get up,” Mark said definitively. Fernando turned his head in the direction of his voice. 

“The time?”

“Seven-thirty,”

“Seven-thirty! Is too early,” Fernando rolled back over to his original position and buried his face in the pillow. He heard Mark laughing at him but he pushed it away, focusing on getting back to sleep. 

“You’re really not an early morning person, are you,” Mark said through a laugh. Fernando turned his head to face him. 

“Am.” He started, adjusting the pillow so it lay as it normally should on the bed. He rolled over to face Mark, still with his eyes closed. “I get up early to run and to bike and to do other things,” the sleepiness was coming through in his voice. “But not today.” Fernando threw the duvet over his head and rested his head on the mattress succumbed in the new warmth. It didn’t last long. Mark took hold of the edge of the duvet and threw it off Fernando, exposing him to the cold, morning air. Fernando finally opened his eyes and glared darkly up at Mark who was leaning over him. Mark just smiled. 

“Done ranting? Now get your lazy arse up,” Mark moved away and Fernando kept his eyes on the ceiling. 

“I haven’t got a lazy arse, my arse is very active thank you,” Fernando pouted making Mark laugh again. 

“It’s being very lazy now so get it up,” Fernando sighed at Mark’s comment.

“Why must I get up early?” Fernando whined like a child. This fact just made Mark smile wider. 

“Because we are travelling,” Fernando rolled back on his head so he was looking at Mark upside down. 

“Travelling?” Fernando righted himself as Mark turned to face him. A thought suddenly occurred to Fernando and he gave Mark a bored look. “If you are taking me to Milton Keynes I am not coming,” Fernando stated as he pulled the duvet back over his head. Mark moved forwards and ripped in back, throwing it far across the bed so I was out of Fernando’s reach. He was bored of Fernando’s antics now. 

“You need to get up so you can get ready and pack. So get up now please,” Mark said, the beginning of his impatience starting to show in his voice. He crossed the room again and carried on filling the overnight toiletries bag. Fernando lent up on his elbow and looked at Mark confused. 

“Pack? Where are you taking me?” Fernando asked. Mark turned around and gave Fernando an excited grin. 

“London.”

\- - -

They were making good time. Once Fernando had got up he had been surprisingly quick at getting ready. So much so that he had beaten Mark, something he wasn’t letting go. As Mark had walked down the stairs with his own holdall he had seen Fernando waiting, with his arms folded, by the door, he had clocked the smug grin on his boyfriend’s face. 

“See, I could have happily had another ten minutes,” He stated, getting Mark to stick his tongue out at him in reply. Mark had got his own back when Fernando had thought as he had beaten Mark to the car he would be able to drive. He had jumped into the left hand passenger seat and been a little confused when he reached his hands forwards to hold the steering wheel and it wasn’t there. Mark had smugly climbed in just after him and looked over to him as he had turned on the ignition from the right hand side of the car. 

“Steering wheel’s this side, mate,” Mark said, trying to keep a straight face. Fernando folded his arms and huffed, making Mark smile. 

“You will not let me do anything,” Fernando pouted. 

“Not true. You’re the one who got in the wrong side of the car,”

“I forgot,”

“But I am not the one who made you,” Mark brushed Fernando’s lips with his own and Fernando dropped his act, relaxing back into the chair. They left on time and, as Mark checked the clock on the dashboard, they would still have time to do everything he planned. The radio was filling the silence in the car as Mark drove along the route he had found to get to London. The sudden silencing of it made Mark turn to Fernando. 

“Didn’t like that one?” Mark asked, referring to the song Fernando had just shut off.

“Didn’t mind, but it prevents conversation,” Fernando said as he turned slightly in his chair so he was facing Mark more.

“Fair point,”

“See, now it is off we have already shared twelve words,” Fernando smiled. 

“Twenty-three if you count yours as well,”

“On that basis is now thirty,”

“This game could go on forever, mate, let’s not,” Mark took a quick glance at Fernando, seeing his relaxed posture and small nod, before he diverted his eyes back to the road. 

“So what is your plan for today?” Fernando asked. 

“Would you be happy if I told you it was a surprise?”

“Not particularly, your ‘surprise’ made me grumpy at you this morning. This was not fun,”

“Was for me, you’re funny when you want sleep,”

“Is you and your constant early starts,”

“You had four extra hours yesterday, you shouldn’t be sleep deprived,” Mark said and Fernando looked for a decent explanation as to why he hadn’t wanted to get out of bed. 

“Jet lag? I need to catch up,”

“With an hour? Try again,” There was a short pause before Fernando spoke again. 

“What about I wanted to watch the man I love wake up?” Mark felt a buzz of happiness in his stomach at the casualness of Fernando’s words. 

“He was already awake so that doesn’t count either,” Mark smiled, looking briefly at Fernando again to convey his happiness at his comment. Fernando was looking out the front window. Mark placed his left hand on Fernando’s thigh and rubbed it gently. “Just admit it, you were being a lazy arse this morning,”

“No. I have no lazy arse,” Fernando said, looking back over at Mark. Mark shrugged.

“OK, then you were being a stubborn teenager?”

“I prefer this explanation,”

“Great, so do I need to pick you up any spot cream for the journey? Or should I call the hotel and make sure that the doors in our room cannot be slammed? I’m bringing you out for a nice day and I don’t want any of your teenage mood swings,” Mark joked.

“Nice try changing the subject, but where are you taking me?” Fernando said with a smile. 

“London,”

“To do…?”

“Things,” Fernando sighed. 

“I do not like these cryptic clues,”

“Then stop asking questions,” Mark moved his hand from Fernando’s knee to change gear. 

“Is odd sitting here but not driving,”

“That’s England for you,”

“So if you made me pack we are staying somewhere overnight?”

“I suppose that was given away when I asked you to pack,”

“Right. What about your dogs?”

“Taken care of; the housekeeper will make sure they are alright,”

“How did you explain why you needed her to look after them?”

“Told her I was going away for the night,”

“Alone?” Mark turned to Fernando. 

“She let you in yesterday, mate, I think she put two and two together,” Fernando turned his gaze out of the front window, folding his arms. 

“This is six,”

“Don’t start on that again,”

“Mark, we agreed that no one was to know. Just us. Our little secret. And now six other people know! Not to mention the little shit who is trying everything in his power to fucking ruin me!”

“People worked it out, its not like we went around shouting it to the skies. Look at it this way, there are at least two hundred people in the paddock and loads more the two of us know outside it. If only six of that mass of people know I think that’s not a bad thing,”

“It worries me he knows,” Fernando said, turning so his elbow was resting on the window frame and his hand was cupping his chin. 

“I know. It worries me too,”

“Not knowing what he could do next or the next thing he is planning. All he has to do is say one word to the wrong person and this could all blown in our faces,”

“Fernando, we can’t let him ruin this. Whatever he does we are stronger than it. Just remember that I love you and I always will. He can’t take that from us,”

“But he could make it so hard. It will be different, harder when you are not there. He will come after me on my own and I won’t…” Fernando let his words drift out. He couldn’t finish that sentence. However much he didn’t show it, Sebastian had a hell of a lot over his head. There were too many people Sebastian could let it slip to and ruin this wonderful thing he had going with Mark. The press. Red Bull. Dasha. Too many people had the opportunity to ruin it and the prospect of that was killing him, slowing burning up any good feeling he had. 

“I won’t let that happen.” Mark said. He wanted to hold Fernando but he couldn’t as he was driving. 

“But next year-”

“-Someone told me, not too long ago, to live in the moment. Whatever happens; happens. That thoughts of the past and future cannot be lingered on. Don’t let it ruin the time we have,”

“Please stop quoting me to me,” Fernando said with a little smile. 

“You were taking sense. Now don’t be a hypocrite and take your own advice,” Silence fell in the car again and after a while Mark picked up a conversation about training. They talked about remedial, everyday things until Mark pulled up outside the Park Plaza hotel on Westminster Bridge. It wasn’t too grand, but it wasn’t shabby either. Mark was satisfied already with the service he had been given by the hotel as they hadn’t pried on questions like who was his ‘and guest’. They walked in and were check into their room. It was a small and cosy room with a scenic view of the bridge and a fantastic vision of Big Ben. Fernando stood looking out the window and Mark wrapped his arms around his waist, pushing his lips into the curve of Fernando’s neck.

“Like it?”

“Is wonderful,” Fernando said, not able to tear his eyes from the view. 

“Good, because today we are going to be tourist,” Fernando turned his back to the view so he could look into Mark’s eyes. “We’re going to go around London and do all the tourist things. And tonight I have booked us into a club, which is why we are staying overnight.” Fernando pushed his lips into Mark’s. Doing tourist things in London had never been something he had really done before; whenever he came down to the capitol of England it was normally for some PR thing for Ferrari. 

“Thank you,” Fernando said, resting his forehead on Mark’s.

“You’re welcome.” Mark smiled, pulling Fernando closer to him. The day went by like a blur. There was so much to do and so little time to do it all in. They went up on the London Eye, Tower of London, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace – and they saw the changing of the guard. They did a few museums but it became clear quickly that neither of them were that interested. They had lunch and went to Covent Garden. Luckily, no one recognised them and many tour guides were happy to take photos of them. It was a peaceful and tiring day and Fernando wished that this was what life could be like. With no worries or expectations for them. They could just be themselves and be together. Fernando fell back onto the bed as soon as they walked in at 18:30. His feet hurt from all the walking they had done. Mark fell down next to him and entwined their fingers. 

“Thank you,” Fernando said, turning his head to face Mark. Mark did the same. 

“You’re welcome,” Mark smiled. His phone was stored in his pocket and he would cherish the photos they had on it. Fernando looked back up at the ceiling. 

“So tired,” Fernando sighed, letting his eyes close. Mark rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow.

“We don’t have to go out to the club tonight if you don’t want to,” Mark said, brushing the hairs out of Fernando’s face. Fernando looked up at him. 

“I want to. This is part of your plan,”

“Don’t feel you’re complied to. We can just stay here and watch a movie, get some room service,” 

“Is fine. I want to finish your day,”

“Only if you’re sure. I really won’t mind,” Fernando pushed himself up so he was sitting.

“I am sure, Mark,” he kissed Mark. “Want to finish perfect day,”

“Alright then,” Mark smiled and Fernando got up. “Where are you going?”

“To get ready. I need to shower,” Fernando moved towards the bathroom when Mark had a thought. 

“Hey, can I borrow your phone?” Fernando turned, pulling it out of his pocket and looking confused. 

“Why?”

“Because you’ve got the photo the beefeater took and I want a copy,” Mark smiled and caught Fernando’s phone easily. Fernando disappeared into the bathroom as Mark began looking through his photos. His background had changed from Dasha to a picture of the Ferrari logo. He had changed it a couple of weeks ago. As Mark unlocked it he noticed the badge on the phone app that indicated he had five missed calls. Mark looked down at it confused but as he made the decision to open it and look at the calls Fernando had missed it rang.

It was Dasha. 

Mark watched the screen for a moment before sliding the answer button and bringing it to his ear. The phone was on silent so there was no worry of Fernando hearing it from the shower. Mark was curious as to what Dasha was after.

“Hello?” Mark asked in a quiet voice. 

“Mark?” Dasha’s confused tone dropped worry in Mark’s stomach. There was an edge to it that made him assume by him answering the phone he had confirmed something to Dasha. 

“Yes. Sorry, Fernando’s not about at the-”

“-You’re with Fernando?” Her tone changed to disbelieving and more dread filled Mark’s stomach. 

“Yes.” There was a moment of silence. 

“Why?”

“I… Why are you calling, Dasha. I’ll pass on the message,”

“Don’t bother.” The line went dead and Mark looked down at the blank screen, worry and dread fighting in his stomach. He decided not to mention it to Fernando when he reappeared from the bathroom with a white fluffy towel wrapped around his waist and one he was using to rub dry his hair. Mark handed him back his phone as he passed to the bathroom himself. Fernando caught his arm. 

“Are you all right?” Fernando asked, reading the worry in Mark’s eyes. Mark put on a smile. 

“Never been better,” he lied, brushing Fernando’s lips gently. He closed the bathroom door behind him and tried not to think about Dasha’s disbelieving tone. It was as if she couldn’t believe it was true. As if someone had said something to her. Mark focused on washing the shampoo out of his hair and not on the endless possibilities of explanations his head was presenting. 

Now dressed, Fernando looked down at his phone. When he unlocked it his messages open and he saw the picture Mark had sent to himself. A small smile crept onto his lips as he looked at it; the way Mark’s arm was around his waist, pulling him closer. And the way he could see the happiness in Mark’s eyes. They were framed with the Tower of London in the background and Mark had begged Fernando to take off his sunglasses. He was so glad he had. Seeing how happy he looked in Mark’s hold was something he never wanted to forget. He knew now how he looked to others when they were together: happy. Ecstatic even. And that was the way he wanted it to stay. 

He closed down the app and his eyes fell on the number five that was sitting on the corner of the phone app. They had all been from Dasha. Still she was persistently trying to get him to talk to her. But he didn’t want to. He was happy with Mark and he didn’t want anything to ruin that. He opened the app so as to clear the number when he saw it. Above her name that was red indicating the missed call. It was black. Someone had answered the phone to Dasha. Initially he was annoyed at Mark but almost instantaneously he understood why Mark was worried. What had Dasha said? Without a second though he pressed her name and lifted the phone to his ear. Two rings later the ringing stopped. 

“Finally decided you wanted to talk,” Dasha said in a blunt, bored tone. Fernando wasn’t up for her games. 

“What did you say to him?” Fernando’s anger tinted his words. 

“Not what did he say to me? Nice, Fernando. At least now I know where your loyalties lie,”

“Don’t fuck with me, Dasha. What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I don’t believe you,”

“That’s a first,” Dasha said sarcastically. 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” There was a moment of silence before Dasha spoke again, changing the subject. 

“So what are you doing with Mark? I thought you were supposed to be seeing me tomorrow,”

“Change of plan,” Fernando said through gritted teeth. He had totally forgotten about Dasha. 

“Thanks for letting me know,” She spat sarcastically. 

“I don’t appreciate you constantly calling, Dasha. Say what you want to me, but don’t fuck with my friends,”

“Don’t worry, Fernando. I’ll leave all the fucking to you,” A stone of panic dropped in Fernando’s stomach. 

“What?”

“Have fun with Mark. You could have at least told me,”

“Dasha I don’t understand-”

“-No more being a prick, Fernando. You won’t answer my calls and now you’re bailing on plans we made weeks ago. Tell me straight. Is there something going on between you and Mark?” Fernando froze. There was no possible way… She couldn’t know. But here she was, asking the question. It was not something he wanted to discuss over the phone. 

“No.” He said with all the courage he could muster. 

“No?” She said, a little shocked. 

“No.”

“Then why are you-?”

“I needed to spend some time with a friend, Dash. I needed to clear my head.” There was another silence. Fernando felt sick. He didn’t want to lie about what Mark and he had; it was too perfect. But he had to. He couldn’t. No one else could know. 

“Am I going to see you again before you go to America?” Dasha asked in a small voice. Fernando sighed and fell back onto the bed. 

“I’m home on Friday,” he said, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. 

“Then I’ll see you then?” A little hope was clear in her voice. 

“Yeah, sure,” Fernando sighed. There was another pause.

“Love you,” Fernando’s voice stopped in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t fair. He had thought he had cleared this. It wasn’t fair on any of them. Not Him. Not Dasha. Not Mark. But he couldn’t return Dasha’s love. It didn’t exist anymore. But if he didn’t she would know something was up. He tried to catch his breath. “Fernando?”

“You too,” He squeezed out before ending the call. He felt horrid. The worst possible thing he could have done and he had done it. He felt like he had betrayed Mark. First lying about them and then giving someone else his love. But it wasn’t like that. Mark had all of Fernando’s love. But Mark wouldn’t see it that way. He was already dubious about Fernando still being with Dasha. Not believing he was fully committed to him. Fernando tried to compose himself; he couldn’t let Mark know. 

Technically, that was now seven.

\- - -

Fernando had been very quite on their way to the club. Very quite indeed. And it wasn’t explainable. Fernando had been fine when Mark had gone to shower but when Mark had left the bathroom Fernando had been lying on the bed. He hadn’t looked at Mark, but as he moved back to put his towel in the bathroom, Mark caught the redness around his eyes. It was so off character it was unnerving Mark. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Mark asked for the eighth time that evening. His constant questions should have been annoying Fernando, but he was not really focusing on the man he was walking with. He nodded absent-mindedly again. Mark grabbed his arm.

“No. Not anymore. I don’t believe you.” Mark said, spinning Fernando around to look at him. 

“Am fine.” Fernando said in a small voice. 

“You’re not.” Fernando looked up at Mark briefly before dropping his eyes back to the floor. 

“Just drop it, Mark,”

“No.” Mark pulled Fernando between two buildings and out of the busy street. It was eerily quiet and dark and Fernando gripped Mark’s jacket tighter as Mark pushed him against the wall. “Tell me.”

“I can’t,” Fernando stared intently at his hand on Mark’s jacket.

“You can. Just…” Mark pushed himself closer to Fernando, trapping him between his body and the wall. He placed his head next to Fernando’s so the Spaniard could whisper in his ear. “Tell me.” He whispered to Fernando. 

“Mark… Please…” Fernando said in a pained tone. 

“I’m not going anywhere. Whatever it is. Whatever has happened. I’m right here. I won’t leave you because I love y-”

“-Don’t.” Fernando shut his eyes to stop the tear falling down his cheek. Mark lent back slightly so he could frown down at him. 

“Don’t?” Mark fought to keep his tone even but that proved difficult even on the tiny word. Why did Fernando not want him to tell him he loved him?

“Is what I did,”

“I don’t understand,” Mark said, brushing the hair from Fernando’s face and leaving his hand cupping the back of Fernando’s head. 

“I said… To Dasha…” 

“You called Dasha?”

“I saw you had answered... And you were sad… I thought she had…” Fernando pushed himself forwards and buried himself into Mark’s shoulder. Mark wrapped his arms tightly around Fernando, pulling him closer. 

“Hey. Shh… It’s alright,” Mark cooed as he rubbed soothing circles into Fernando’s back.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t love her. I want you. And I love you. Only you. But she can’t. I don’t understand. I want this to be simple. I thought it was. It’s the most complicated. Thing. Mark. I’m sorry,” Fernando’s ragged breathing punctuated his words. Mark cupped Fernando’s face and brought him out of his shoulder. 

“Hey, I know that. And I know this isn’t easier for you. It’s not easy for either of us. But we can make this work.”

“But I lied about us! Just lied. So easily and I hate myself for it!”

“You did what you had to do, Fer. I understand… Please don’t hate yourself,” Fernando buried himself in Mark again. 

“I can’t make this right,” Fernando said, his words muffled from being pressed into Mark’s shirt.

“Nothing needs to be made right,” Mark sighed. They stood for a moment just holding onto each other. Mark waited until Fernando had calmed down before he let go, taking Fernando’s hand instead. 

“Come on,” Mark said, wiping the stray tears from Fernando’s cheek. When Mark turned right, back the way they had come, after coming out of the alley, Fernando stopped. 

“Where are you going?” he asked in a breathy voice. Mark turned to him

“Back to the hotel,”

“What about the club?”

“You still want to go?” Mark was shocked. He had expected Fernando would just want to go and hid in their room. 

“Yes. You plan this for me and as the day was so perfect I want to go.”

“You sure?”

“We cannot end our perfect day like this,” Fernando looked up at Mark and Mark agreed. He began back on their journey to the club with Fernando gripping tightly to their interlocked hands. 

\- - -

It was very late when it happened. Mark almost missed it. Fernando was dancing so close to him and he didn’t want anything to interrupt that. The gently sway of his hips in time to the music and the way they were forced to stay intimately close to each other. But when Mark had read the name that lit up on his phone, he knew he needed to read it. He excused himself from Fernando; saying that he needed the toilet and Fernando headed back to their table so Mark could find him when he came back. He walked out into the normal-lit entrance corridor and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he slid Sebastian’s name across his screen. 

Aww! I want a blown up copy! So cute! ^_^ 

Mark was initially confused by the text, but one look at the photo that was attached made his heart stop. Impossible. There was no way he could have it. But there it was. Mark knew he had sent it to himself; Fernando didn’t have Sebastian’s number. So Sebastian had got it some other way. But the more worrying things was that he had it at all. 

Fernando and Mark grinned up out of his screen at him framed by the Tower of London looking well and truly in love.


	18. Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”  
> ~Martin Luther King, Jr.~

The routine they had fallen into over the short space of a few days was remarkable. It felt to Mark as if they had always been this way; it was so natural. They had come back from London and had two days of their little domestic routine. Fernando would wake up stupidly early and go for a short run and when he got back Mark had the breakfast ready for them on the table. The morning would be spent together and then after lunch they would take the dogs for a walk and then return back to shower and relax in the evening, starting on dinner when they were both hungry. Fernando had stayed true to his promise and taught Mark – or attempted to – two different Spanish dishes. It had ended up with Fernando cooking and Mark leaning against the work surface, admirably watching him as he worked and sipping on wine. Once he had burnt the first paella and Fernando had had to start from scratch the cooking had mainly been left to the Spaniard. Not that Fernando minded; he preferred having something to do.

“Do you want some wine, mate?” Mark had asked as he was setting the table and Fernando finished whatever he was doing. 

“No thank you,” Fernando said, not taking his eyes away from his finishing touches. 

“Why not?” Mark asked, curiously as he put the new bottle away and retrieved the already opened one from the night before that he had also enjoyed himself. 

“Don’t like,” 

“You’ve drunk it before,” Mark added as he poured some wine into his glass. 

“Doesn’t mean I like it,” Mark turned to face Fernando in amusement. 

“Then why did you drink it?”

“You said it was nice… It seemed the social convention… Was not nice. Not in my opinion,”

“Why are you telling me this?” Mark half laughed, perplexed by his boyfriend’s awareness of social conventions. Fernando stopped what he was doing and frowned at the wall.

“I don’t know,” Fernando turned to Mark. “You asked?” Fernando had just let it slip out. He hadn’t meant to tell Mark, not that he was ashamed about it. Just one of his little characteristics. It seemed very insignificant to him but Mark was glowing at the fact Fernando had shared it. A little piece of information about him that made him who he was. A little part of the equation that was Fernando Alonso. Fernando smiled and brought the plates over to the table. Mark crossed into the kitchen.

“So what do you want to drink?” Mark asked. 

“Just some water, thanks,” Fernando said, leaning on the back of his chair and watching Mark. His back still hurt a bit. More like a constant ache. He was still taking anti-inflammatory pills but he was told there was no injury. That didn’t stop the irritation at night and he was struggling to find sleep. One night he just lay and watched Mark sleep, nodding off briefly but being woken up by a twinge of pain. It had been a difficult week; with the headaches occurring too. Mark returned to the table with a glass of water for Fernando and they both sat down, digging into their meal. 

“So is it just wine or…?”

“I’m not really a fan of drinking. I’d prefer to be the driver than the drinker,” Fernando said placing a mouthful of food in his mouth. 

“I’ll remember that,” Mark winked. 

“I should hope so. Just make sure it’s not my car you throw up in,” Fernando joked. 

The two days at Mark’s house had passed too quickly for either of them. Neither of them wanted to say good-bye, even if they were going to see each other in America shortly. On the Friday morning their routine was broken and before they knew it they were seated in the car outside the airport. Mark looked over to Fernando trying to find some words to say. It seemed so stupid that this was so hard. Four days and they would see each other again. But it wouldn’t be the same. 

“Do you have to go?” Mark said, trying to hide the sadness from his voice. 

“Yes, Mark. I have doctor appointments and you have to go to Milton Keynes.”

“And you’ll call me as soon as you’re finished to let me know how you are?” Mark said in a worried tone. Fernando resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Mark always worried unnecessarily and it amused Fernando. 

“First thing I do,” Fernando smiled and Mark returned it. A silence fell between them again, neither one wanting to be the one that said good-bye first. Neither of them wanting the other to leave. Fernando leant across the seats and wrapped his arms around Mark tightly. Mark brushed the back of his hair therapeutically and they stayed in each other’s hold for a moment, just taking the other in. 

“My plane will not wait, Mark,” Fernando said against Mark’s neck. Still neither of them moved. Eventually, Fernando pulled back out of Mark’s arms. Mark leant over the middle of the seats to stay close to him. “I will call you when I land,” Fernando smiled, placing one hand on the door handle. 

“OK,” Mark said. Fernando turned abruptly towards Mark and pulled him into a kiss. Just as Mark began to get into it Fernando pulled away, leaving a pouting Australian behind. Fernando smiled cheekily and placed another kiss on his cheek. 

“Love you,” He said as he threw the door open and climbed out, pulling his bag from the back seat as he went. Mark rested his chin on his hand and leant his elbow on the middle of the car, watching Fernando’s retreating figure. He sighed contently. 

“Love you too,” He muttered to himself. As Fernando disappeared into the airport, Mark straightened himself up and started up the car, heading in the direction of Milton Keynes. 

\- - - - - 

It had been an emotional weekend. First, Fernando had gone home, then he had had his last day at the Red Bull factory and to top it off it was released that Fernando would be stating on Monday whether or not he would actually be racing in America. Mark had tried desperately to get hold of him but it was to no avail. Finally Monday had come and around midday Mark read Fernando’s tweet stating he was packing for America. Enormous relief had filled him; he couldn’t think of going to a race if Fernando wasn’t there. It had been the Monday evening, when Mark was sitting on the sofa, watching some wildlife programme because he had left the remote in the kitchen, with the dogs curled round him when his phone had rang. He picked it up swiftly as he read the name on display. 

“How are you?” were the first words from his lips. He could have sworn he heard Fernando exasperate quietly and imagined he was rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. 

“Am fine, just like I was.”

“But that wasn’t exactly fine, was it, mate. You couldn’t sleep,”

“Just hurts a little,” Fernando sighed. Mark could hear Fernando’s bed sheets moving as he stretched and Mark relaxed back into the sofa, tickling the dog’s head again. “How are you?”

“I’m fantastic,” Mark smiled. There was a moment of silence. 

“Are you sad?”

“Why would I be sad?” Mark frowned, his hand freezing on Simba’s head. 

“You had you’re last day… I know you want to leave but you have been there a long time…” Mark breathed out. 

“It was emotional, mate, yeah. But I’m OK now,” Mark smiled. Simba turned his head to Mark waiting and Mark resumed scratching the top of his head and he fell back into his initial position. “So, how’s life back in Spain?”

“Weird,” Fernando sighed. Mark heard the rub of fabric as he assumed Fernando slid down the bed. 

“Weird?”

“Yes. Everyone keeps looking after me and asking if I’m OK,”

“That’s kind of expected; you had a pretty big knock,”

“But I am fine!”

“Fernando. You’re not,” 

“It’s still weird,” Fernando put in; blocking Mark from repeating the lecture he had heard from different people in different ways about how he has to be careful. He was going to race, no one but a doctor would change his mind. He rubbed his forehead trying to sooth the headache that seemed to constantly pound in his head.

“But-”

“-Not in the respect of everyone else… Dasha’s acting strange,” Mark froze again, but this was a little more serious. Mark sat forwards and Simba hopped off the chair, sitting between Mark’s legs and looking up at him. Mark ran his free hand into his hair. 

“What do you mean?”

“She made cookies,” Fernando said and Mark couldn’t help but laugh. 

“A caring and compassionate thing, yeah, really weird thing for a girlfriend to do-”

“-No. You don’t understand. And don’t call her that,” 

“Sorry,” Mark said, a small wave of joy washing through him at Fernando’s disconnection with Dasha. “Why don’t you explain then,”

“She’s being too… much. It’s not normal,”

“You are in pain,”

“Yeah, but is too much. She’s acting as if she feels incredibly guilty and she is trying to make it up to me…”

“Is she guilty?”

“I don’t know,” Fernando sighed, closing his eyes. He winced as pain shot down his back and his head pounded. Tonight wasn’t going to be easy. He sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t understand her,”

“How’s your head?”

“Still hurts,” Mark snickered as he got up and walked through to the kitchen to retrieve the remote. 

“Kind of coming out of the wars aren’t you, mate,” Mark joked and Fernando breathily laughed. 

“Something like that,” there was a pause as Mark shut off the television. 

“You sure you’re good to race?”

“Yes, Mark. I was checked out. No injuries just soreness,” Fernando exasperated for what he felt was the hundredth time that day. 

“I’m just checking. I don’t want you to make it worse for next year,”

“Is just sore, I’ll be alright,” Mark nodded even though he knew Fernando couldn’t see him. 

“So what you doing now?” Mark asked as he kicked the dogs off the chair and headed into his own room. He hadn’t realised how late it was and was aware of the fact Fernando was an hour ahead of him. 

“Dasha’s just tucked me into bed, ordered I don’t move and gone to get some water and anti-inflammatory pills,”

“You’re still taking those?”

“Yes, they help the pain. It is getting easier to sleep now,”

“Good,”

“Though I think at the same time harder…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, now my back doesn’t hurt so much but I miss having you next to me. Is comforting,”

“If it helps I miss you too,”

“It does a little, yes,” Fernando smiled and Mark couldn’t help but emulate it.

“So Dasha tucked you in?” Mark teased, knowing the action would make Fernando feel like a little kid.

“Yes. She is acting very guilty,” he sighed. 

“I don’t know, maybe she feels like she dragged you back to Spain,”

“Is not that. This is something she is not telling me. She either can’t or won’t. This worries me.”

“Because she’s too close to Seb?”

“I think that he has said something or done something and she cannot tell me. It puts me on edge,”

“Just try to relax, mate. I’m sure it’s nothing,”

“She probably is just being very caring,”

“Exactly,” Mark smiled. He heard Fernando yawn from the other end of the line. “I should let you go,”

“Is fine. Not tired.”

“Fernando, get some sleep. Rest yourself and get better,” 

“Ok. I will call you when I get to Austin?”

“Sounds good,” Mark smiled as he fell back on his bed so he was looking up the ceiling, his free hand finding his hair. 

“I love you,” Mark couldn’t stop the smile that forced its way onto his face at Fernando’s words. 

“I love you too, mate,” He heard Fernando gasp in pain. “What? What happened?” Mark sat up, voice full of panic. 

“Nothing. I rolled on my side. It hurt.” Fernando said as he rolled back on his back, feeling more restricted and trapped than ever. His duvet began to feel like it was suffocating him. 

“Don’t scare me like that,”

“Sorry,” Fernando sighed, letting his eyes close. 

“Night, Fernando,” Mark said.

“Good night,” Fernando kept the phone held against his ear for a moment after Mark disconnected the call. He didn’t want to stop talking to Mark. He wanted to continue to hear his voice. He turned the phone to his face to redial the number when Dasha opened the door, a glass of water in one hand and a box of pills in the other. Fernando sighed and moved to sit himself up. 

“No, stay there,” Dasha said, closing the door behind her and crossing into the room in a hurry. Fernando froze, mid move and watched her as she placed the items in her hands on his bedside table and perched on the edge of the bed. She pulled him gently forwards and pulled his pillow up so it was resting along the back of the headboard. Guiding him back gently she smiled at him, registering the phone in his hands. “Were you on the phone?”

“Yes, but I’m not anymore,” he sighed as she took the phone from his hands and turned it off. He adjusted himself so he was more comfortable. 

“Who called at this hour?”

“I called Mark,” Fernando said casually as he relaxed back into the pillow, closing his eyes. Dasha froze, the ‘slide to power off’ button shining tantalizingly off the screen. She looked up at Fernando without moving her head. 

“Mark?” Fernando opened his eyes slowly and one at a time taking in her expression. He cursed himself for his casual mistake as he read her shocked and disbelieving expression. 

“Yeah.” Fernando said bluntly. Dasha held his gaze momentarily before shrugging and turning back to turn off his phone. She noticed, briefly, that her face no longer occupied his background and was instead the Ferrari logo. She forced away the sadness that rose from within her, feeling instantly guilty again. 

“That’s nice. It’s good you’re talking again,” Dasha said in the too sweet and too kind tone she had adopted for her visit to Fernando. Fernando frowned at her confused and tried to work out what could have possibly happened to make her feel so guilty. 

“You alright?” He asked as she popped two pills from the packet. She held them out to him, resting on her palm, with her other hand offering the glass of water. She smiled, but her guilty undertone was still too clear to Fernando. 

“Perfectly,” Fernando took the pills and swallowed them, taking a long drag of water to wash them down. Once he had finished Dasha took the water back and placed it on the side table next to his phone.

“You’re lying,” Fernando stated and Dasha blushed red. 

“Am not,”

“I know you pretty well, Dash,” Fernando said, tilting his head to try and catch her eye. He leant too far left and a shot of pain ran up his back, making him gasp and straighten up. Dasha’s tentative hands were on his shoulders quicker than he could blink and he took the opportunity to look at her. “You can tell me,” Her eyes met his for a second before she looked down at his wrist. He cupped her face like Mark did to him when he was trying to hide something from the Australian. He knew Mark’s soft strokes of his cheek always made him spill all and was hoping the same would ring true for Dasha. She swallowed. 

“I feel like we might be… drifting apart,” Dasha sighed, not taking her eyes off Fernando’s wrist. 

“What makes you say that?” She looked up at him. 

“We just seem to be on different paths… And we haven’t… Had any… Contact with each other for ages…” Dasha’s cheeks stained red and she dropped her eyes down again. 

“It’s been hard, I know. But everything has just seemed to happen after the other and I can’t risk my back-”

“-No! Fernando, I would never ask-!” Her hands flew to his face and she held his gaze. “I want you to get better. To win. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything to compromise your recovery,” He pulled her into a hug and let her rest her head on his shoulder. 

“After the end of the season everything will sort itself out,” Fernando muttered into her hair. What she didn’t know was that would most probably be the end of them. But he couldn’t tell her. Not yet. Especially not with her in such a vulnerable state. She nodded her head and pulled out of his hold, smiling softly at him. He returned her smile and she got off the bed, helping him lay down and get comfortable. 

Dasha went to the bathroom to change into her purple tank top and purple-checkered trouser pyjamas and when she returned the lighting was lowered and Fernando was asleep; his gentle intakes of breathe giving him away. She walked to his side of the bed and crouched down by his head, just watching him for a moment. What had she done? She could barely let herself look at him for more than a few seconds before the crushing guilt overcame her and she pushed herself up, turning away. She wrapped her arms around herself, holding tightly, and counted a minute to regain her composer. Once she was not hyperventilating she moved over and climbed into bed next to Fernando, being careful not to rouse him.

The guilt pushed her into the mattress and she hated herself for lying to Fernando. Something she had promised she would never do. 

\- - - - -

Thursday sucked. Fernando was just lying on his hotel bed, looking at his phone too much because he was waiting for a response. A response he had been waiting for for too long. Dasha and he had arrived in Austin a few days earlier. Today he had gone to the FIA medics to be check that he was fit to race. He had been cleared, easily, like he had been in every other check up but they had put some kinesio tape on his back and neck to help the circulation through his left shoulder. He had decided to come back to the hotel to rest and skipped his publicity requirements, telling Dasha to go and explore Austin because he would be no fun to be around. 

He kind of wished he hadn’t sent her away as he lay on his own, staring up at the ceiling and trying to forget about the odd feeling of the tape running over his left shoulder and neck. He was trying to force himself not to unlock his phone again, not to check if Mark had replied. The phone wasn’t on silent. If he had have text Fernando would have heard it. 

But still he lay, fuming, wanting to call Mark and tell him exactly what he thought of being ignored. And it wasn’t as if Fernando was asking for much. He had simply asked Mark how he was to try and get a conversation started. It had passed his mind that Mark may have been caught up in his own publicity stuff and couldn’t reply but it had been three hours now and Fernando was sure he could have found a spare minute to tell him he was busy. 

He had to force himself to not jump up when his text tone sounded. A smile spread onto his face as he read Mark’s name and slid the phone to unlock it. The smile dropped pretty quick as he read the message; a burning feeling spreading through him and shooting from his fingertips. Why it was annoying him so much Fernando couldn’t place. But he didn’t like it. Here he was, stuck in this little room whilst Mark was out having fun. Jealousy foamed on his skin and he had an urge to go and find Mark, leave the room and yell at him. But it was more important that he was OK for free practice tomorrow. He just glared at the screen instead. 

With Jenson getting a drink. I’ll call you later. 

Fernando had never really felt jealous before and registered that this must be what it felt like. He didn’t like it; it wasn’t fun.


	19. USA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “God bless the USA, so large, so friendly, and so rich.”   
> ~W. H. Auden~

Fernando was still sulking as he left the hotel room, finally, on Friday morning. Mark had called, very late, and Fernando had ignored it. He hadn’t listened to Mark’s voice message letting him stew in whatever he was feeling. He was hurt more than anything that Mark would prefer to spend time with Jenson than him. Maybe he was reading too much into it. Dasha went back into Austin and Fernando went to the track on his own, though he was running late; Dasha had been a long time in the bathroom this morning and he didn’t know why. It just added to his foul mood. There was a mirror on the dressing table, why couldn’t she have used that to do her makeup? When she finally emerged and he asked her why she just shrugged, not saying anything. She seemed to be in a funny mood and Fernando should have cared, should have asked her if she was all right. But he didn’t; he was too annoyed at Mark. 

So he was currently sitting at the back of the garage alone. The session was currently red flagged because a fog had formed over the circuit and it didn’t look like it was going to lift anytime soon. He could hear his phone buzzing on the shelf beside him, but he still didn’t pick it up. He knew it was Mark trying to call and he really didn’t want to talk to him. This jealous thing wasn’t fun; he wasn’t enjoying it at all. 

Mark ran his hands through his hair as Fernando’s Spanish answer phone message began. He contemplated waiting for Fernando’s voice to repeat his message in English and then leave one himself after the tone but he had already done that a few hours ago and worry was starting to set in his stomach. He just needed to know Fernando was OK. He hadn’t seen him at all on Thursday and then he hadn’t answered when Mark called. He had initially assumed that Fernando had fallen asleep but when he tried and got no reply this morning he started to panic. He wasn’t even sure if he was at the track today. He put his phone down and got up, moving to exit the garage.

“Where are you going?” a teasing voice sang from across the garage. Mark continued walking, pretending Sebastian wasn’t there. “Woah, I thought your drink with Jenson would cheer you up…”

“Well it didn’t,” Mark snapped, turning on his heels to face Seb. Seb let a small smirk creep onto his lips. Mark was so predictable, which is why he loved pushing his buttons. He grabbed Mark’s wrist and dragged him out the back of the Red Bull garage. Mark turned to face him it the confinement of the small corridor leading to the toilets. 

“Sorry, I really thought talking it out would help you,” Seb shrugged watching Mark turn to him.

“Why were you trying to help me anyway?” Mark asked, confused. “When Jenson told me it was your idea to get a drink and talk I couldn’t believe it,”

“I’m you’re friend Mark. I want what’s best for you,” Sebastian smiled softly. Mark watched him for a moment until he decided.

“That’s bollocks.” He said, harshly. Sebastian feigned being hurt. 

“What? Can I not care?”

“Yes, but not for my benefit.” Mark folded his arms. “So what were you trying to accomplish?”

“Nothing, just trying to help you out with your problem… What is it, by the way?” Sebastian added genuinely curious. Mark scoffed. 

“Like fuck I’d tell you, mate,”

“I’ll find out eventually. Jenson and I are close,”

“He won’t tell you so don’t waste you’re time,” 

“We will see,” Mark shook off his statement, not wanting to encourage him, and got back to his initial question.

“What were you trying to do, Seb? You got Jenson to take me out and away from Fernando for the entire evening. What were you after?”

“How is he?” Mark blinked stupidly. 

“What?”

“With his back, how is he?”

“He’s… fine. Don’t change the subject,”

“I’m not. How do you know?”

“What game are you play-?”

“-Answer the question. You’ll work it out,” Mark frowned down at him. He didn’t want to work it out; he wanted Seb to tell him and stop playing his stupid game. 

“Because he told me he was fine,” Mark said cautiously. 

“When?” Seb encouraged. Mark just looked at him as if he was mental. Sebastian rolled his eyes and extracted his phone from his pocket. “You were so sweet…” Sebastian said as he scrolled through his photos. He found the picture of Mark and Fernando at the Tower of London quickly and turned it to face Mark, loving the deep-set anger that locked the Australian’s jaw. 

“How did you fucking get that?” Mark growled, his fists clenching. Seb snickered as he turned the phone to look at the image himself. 

“Irrelevant. But what is relevant is-” Mark caught the neck of Sebastian’s race suit and pushed him against the wall, bring his face very close to the German’s. 

“No Seb. Wrong. Very relevant. Now tell me how you fucking got it because only two people have that photo and neither of them would have sent it to you.” He growled, feeling Sebastian swallow under his arm. 

“You need to be careful what you receive to your phone, Mark. Anyone really could get hold of it…” Sebastian smiled, letting his words register in Mark’s head. Mark’s frown turned to a panicked wide-eyed stare. Not possible. 

“You’re hacking my phone?” 

“It’s easier than you think,” Seb shrugged casually. Mark’s arms fell slack at his side. Not possible. He felt like he was falling and soon to hit the floor. Where did this kid stop? Sebastian brushed himself down as he watched Mark curiously. He was always learning how Mark would react, even if he did have him pretty much worked out. 

“You’re hacking my phone?” Mark said in a disbelieving tone. 

“Yes. Yours, Dasha’s. I would have Fernando’s as well but for a guy who is quite open on social networks he is very clever with hiding his phone,” Seb said in a tone that could be commenting on the weather. Mark couldn’t believe this. 

“Dasha’s?”

“Yeah. If you ever do tell her I’ll need to know. Fernando seems like a phone-call-and-hide rather than a face-to-face-breaking-new kind of guy,” 

“Then you don’t know him very well,”

“No?” Mark looked up at Seb. 

“What does this have to do with anything?” Mark snapped, reverting back to the original conversation. 

“You’ve made three calls off your phone that haven’t been answered, right?” Sebastian said, folding his arms. Mark stayed quiet, just glaring over at him. “So he’s not talking to you,”

“And that was your grand plan? To make him not talk to me?”

“You fulfilled your side of the proposal very nicely thank you,”

“I didn’t do anything,”

“Not intentionally, no…” Sebastian watched Mark again, watched the realisation of his words sink deep into the Australian. 

“I… I don’t understand,” Mark stammered and Sebastian smirked in glee. 

“You do,” Seb walked back past Mark, leaving him standing alone. He leant back round the doorframe and Mark looked up at him. “I didn’t know you were a fan of green,” Mark went to talk but Sebastian had already disappeared back into the garage. So he had tried to make Fernando jealous? No, correction: he had made Fernando jealous. And it was so simple, too simple, for it to work. Sebastian wasn’t doing anything. He was planting the seeds and helping them grow. But no involvement from himself was required. And the thought that he still hadn’t evolved himself yet scared Mark more; he was waiting for his big moment. 

Mark walked straight through the garage and out to the pit lane. The session was still red flagged and emerging out of the garage it was clear to see why. Other drivers were crossing the pit lane to talk to other drivers or members of their team on the pit wall. Mark made a sharp left and headed into the reddest section of the paddock. He stopped himself just short of crossing into the threshold; the press would go nuts if he angrily burst into the Ferrari garage. He turned, looking for someone who wasn’t looking too busy and found too many people he could ask. Everyone was just mulling around, waiting to get some running done. He crossed the pit to the Ferrari seats and walked towards Andrea who was leaning on the end wall, looking down the empty track. 

“Andrea,” Mark said, grabbing the Italian’s attention. He straightened up and turned to Mark, giving him a smile. 

“Hey, Mark-”

“-Can you get Fernando for me?” Mark interrupted. Andrea was a little shocked at Mark’s abruptness. 

“You can go in yourself,” Andrea smiled. Mark closed his eyes. 

“Can you just… Get him please,” Mark said, opening his eyes and showing Andrea his worry. His change of expression got Andrea’s courtesy and he gave Mark a small smile and nodded. They walked across to the garages together and Mark waited for Fernando, leaning on the wall between Red Bull and Ferrari. He pushed his foot against the wall and folded his arms, a small amount of anger at Sebastian still glowing in his skin. Andrea came out alone and Mark thought maybe Fernando had refused. But the arrival of Fernando looking solemn filled him with relief. He gave Andrea a small nod of thanks that he returned before heading back towards the pit wall. Fernando stood in front of him, folding his arms and looking bored. 

“How are you?” Mark asked, tentatively. Fernando shrugged, not giving an answer. Mark swallowed. “You didn’t answer my calls... I was worried…”

“You didn’t answer my text. What makes you think I wasn’t worried?” Fernando said monotony.

“It’s a bit different, mate-”

“-Not at all,” Mark sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. 

“Yes it is, Fernando. You’re in pain and I was scared they had said you couldn’t race. You just had to let me know you were all clear,”

“I am sorry for making you worry,” Fernando sighed, looking down momentarily. “But would you have really cared if I was here or not?” Mark was gobsmacked. He couldn’t really be asking him this. 

“I don’t think I need to answer that,” Mark said, a flash of anger in his eyes. Fernando matched it. 

“Maybe you don’t.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Mark said, pushing himself off the wall and moving closer to Fernando. 

“Surprised you even cared to find me. Didn’t seemed that interested last night,”

“I went for a drink. Kill me.” Mark snarled. 

“Just nice to know where your priorities lie,” Fernando said, turning to go back into his garage. Mark caught his wrist. 

“I didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Mark said as Fernando pulled his wrist free. He didn’t move, just glared at Mark. 

“I’m not.”

“Not sure if you got it, but that’s how you’re acting right now,”

“Thank you for coming over and pointing out the obvious.” Fernando added sarcastically. “Are you done or are there more things you want to point out. Like maybe that the fog is holding out the red flag?”

“This isn’t why I came over, mate,” Mark said, his anger subsiding as he realised Fernando’s hurt posture. Maybe it was the rejection for someone else that really had him worked up. Not entirely jealous but it was tinting the edges. Seb was good. 

“Please, enlighten me, because all I ever hope for is for you to come over and not tell me what you really wanted to,” Fernando spat sarcastically, folding his arms. 

“Seb did this,”

“Don’t pass the blame, Mark. You did this,”

“No. I’m not passing the blame. Seb suggested to Jenson that we went out and I thought it was a good chance to catch up,” Fernando pondered this for a moment.

“I don’t understand why you couldn’t come and see me. I hadn’t seen you all day I just wanted to talk,”

“I know. And I’m sorry,”

“You made me feel…” Fernando stopped talking abruptly, suddenly too aware of how exposed they were. Now was not the time to be getting sentimental and open with each other.

“Feel?” Mark pushed, hanging onto Fernando’s every word. Fernando shook his head. 

“Not now,” a sinking feeling fell in Mark’s stomach. He wanted Fernando to be happy, not miserable because of him. He wanted to cup his face, gently brush his lips with his own, but Fernando was right: not now. 

“I really am sorry, Fer. It was a brash decision and I know how much that would have hurt me if you blew me off for someone else,” He murmured, sensing a camera over his shoulder. Fernando clocked it too and relaxed his posture, leaning casually on the stack of front wings beside him and smiling softly at Mark. Mark continued with foreign hand gestures that could have been misconstrued as depicting a race situation. “Jenson just needed to talk to someone and he seemed pretty desperate. It was too much to go into in a text and I’m sorry.” Mark lied and it felt like a knife stabbing through his heart. He didn’t want to lie to Fernando but he couldn’t tell him why he had really needed to talk to Jenson. It hurt him more that Fernando seemed to accept it as the truth. 

“Really wish you had said,” Fernando sighed in relief, feeling embarrassed and stupid. He was almost over the moon that Mark had just been being a compassionate friend and felt a little bad for ignoring his calls. But it was water under the bridge now and they happily fell into a normal conversation where Mark explained to Fernando what he had missed. There was not a lot to say, just some funny stories about Jenson. He still felt the flicker of jealousy whenever Jenson’s name was mentioned but it was something he was going to have to diminish. Jenson was Mark’s friend and he was fine with that. 

They only stopped talking when Mark was called back into the Red Bull garage to talk about set up by Simon. Fernando smiled and gave him a small wave as the Spaniard himself disappeared into the sea of red. The stone weight of guilt felt heavier in Mark’s stomach with every step he took but he knew he was doing the right thing. He couldn’t tell Fernando. 

Not yet anyway. 

\- - -

There were too many distractions. He had been on fire improving on his own time by point four of a second. But the muck up on the last few corners had lost him his third pole. That moment of letting his mind drift to things he really shouldn’t have been thinking about at that moment. And he had lost it a little. He knew where the mistake had been. He knew where he had given pole to Sebastian. 

He walked into the press pit trying not to let his mistake weigh him down. He still had the whole race ahead of him and you didn’t score points until Sunday. Keep boxing. That was how he worked. He was happy to see Fernando closer to the front, although if sixth was the best he could get out of the car then it wasn’t looking so good. He remembered Fernando once saying that he liked to race not do single laps alone and hoped he could find some sort of pace out of his Ferrari for the race. His PR walked him over to an interviewer and he tried to hide the disappointment on his face. 

\- Mark, that was so close at the end there, are you disappointed with the result? -

Well, it’s not exactly what we wanted. It’s a little disappointing as I was doing really well in the first sector and I just had to hold onto it for the rest of the lap. A repeat of what I had done earlier in the session would have been helpful but good to be starting on the front row.

\- You look fairly disappointed with the result. -

Well yeah, I mean, it will be hard to let go. You go out there wanting to perform at your best and give it your all but today I lost it a bit and it wasn’t my best. So I'm a little disappointed at myself for not doing what I could have done. 

\- With the short run to the first corner do you think that you can get ahead of your teammate? - 

It won’t be easy, would have been easier from the front, but I’ve just got to go out tomorrow and give it my all, hopefully not letting him run too far ahead. 

-Thanks, Mark, and good luck for the race. – 

Thanks. 

\- - - - -

Shit. Boring and shit. A waste of his efforts maybe? They had lost points to Mercedes and he just felt tired and stressed and fed up. He didn’t want to talk to the press. He didn’t want to answer their questions. He wanted to leave and sleep and rest and not think for a little while. He just wanted to relax.

But being a Ferrari driver when they were this off form gave him no chance of relaxing. If it wasn’t questions of pace or the constructors it was questions of his own happiness and whether he wanted to stay at Ferrari. Yes he was frustrated and yes he was bored of always being second best to Sebastian but he wasn’t planning on leaving. He wanted to win another championship and he wanted to win it with Ferrari. He kept his sunglasses on so that he didn’t have to look too engaged and didn’t have to stop himself rolling his eyes at the recycled questions the press would ask as he walked into the pit. 

\- Fernando, a tough race for you with your back and having a car that is struggling with pace. - 

Yes, this is, for sure, not easy to keep fighting with a car that does not want to fight. Especially when I am not one hundred per cent myself, this makes the fight a little more difficult. 

\- What do you mean when you say you are not one hundred per cent? - 

I am very tired. With little preparation for this race due to focusing on my recovery I spend a lot of time on the sofa or in bed with headaches. With a demanding race like this where I have to fight from start to finish it does not help and now I also feel physically tired. 

\- It would be fair to say you are not at your best for the end of the season, but could you say the same for Ferrari? -

Err… Well, I mean, it is still in our target to get back to second in the constructors championship, even if this dream seems a little out of reach now. We wanted to bring down the gap to the Mercedes this weekend but it has just increased a little and Lotus has got a little closer. So for Brazil we must improve. I hope to recover a little more before the last race, maybe get a little bit of training in. It would be nice to say I could go and relax and just enjoy the driving and the racing but there is still these things we are fighting for and these must be our priority even if they feel out of reach. 

\- Thanks, Fernando. Hope you are feeling better for Brazil. - 

As do I. 

The questions had gone on and on, asking in different ways the same things. He just wished he could give a statement and leave but it seemed he was now paying for not being around on Thursday. At some point, no one else had anything to ask him and he was free to retire to the Ferrari motor home to change and leave the circuit. It was with enormous relief that he pulled the fireproof red suit from his body and discarded it on the massage bed that had been left out by his physio. Pulling off the remainder of his race gear so he was standing in his underwear, he located his jeans and shirt pulling them on and welcoming the non fire-resistant fabric that hung loosely on his body. The door opened as he was putting on his watch and he saw Dasha enter the room. 

“Good race today,” she smiled. Fernando shrugged. 

“Was boring. You should have left and found something more fun to do,”

“I was supporting you, that was fun enough,” she said softly, crossing the room to him. She held his cheek and ran her thumb over across it. He sighed, feeling defeated. 

“If you were happy then I am happy,” He said with his eyes closed, happy his sunglasses were still blocking them from view. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” Dasha seemed a little crest-fallen at his comment and he frowned at her slightly.

“Oh. OK… Do you want me to take you back to the hotel?”

“Where were you hoping on going?” He asked, reading Dasha like an open book. Dasha sighed. 

“Some of the others were going to go for a drink and do some shopping and wanted to know if I wanted to go. They wanted me to show them those shops I found the other day but if you are tired then we can go back to the-”

“-It’s alright. You go, have fun. Have a drink on me,” he smiled.

“Only if you are sure,”

“It’s fine, Dash. I’ll probably just go back to the hotel and sleep. Very boring. Go out and enjoy yourself,” Dasha brought her lips briefly to Fernando’s and rested her forehead on his. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice sounding very relieved. 

“Your welcome,” Fernando smiled again, pulling out of her grasp to collect up his things. 

“Do you want a lift back?”

“It’s alright, Andrea can give me a lift. He owns me a favour after I got that car to fifth,” Dasha smiled at his joke and moved back to the door.

“I won’t be too late,” 

“Just drop me a text when you’re heading back,” She nodded and opened the door. 

“Thanks again, Fernando,” He looked up at her, pushing his sunglasses onto his head and giving her a genuine soft smile. 

“No problem,” Dasha smiled back and left, shutting the door softly behind her. She rested her back on it momentarily as the guilt crashed over her again. She really hated lying to Fernando. But she had to do this. She took a deep breath and left the Ferrari motor home. 

A few minutes after Dasha had left, Fernando followed her out. He walked to the car park without being stopped once and felt a new wave of fatigue roll over him. He was so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of hiding, tired of lying. There wasn’t one aspect of his life he could escape to to get the freedom and relaxation he so desperately needed. Just one more week he chanted to himself. One more week until he could sort everything out. He rounded the corner and saw Mark leaning on a car, waiting. Waiting for Fernando. Fernando couldn’t help but smile. 

He just needed Mark to wait a little longer and then everything would be simple. No Formula One expectations to hold them back. They could just be with each other. 

\- - -

It was nice to leave the circuit with Fernando and not have him strapped to a stretcher wrapped in foil. Though looking at him he wasn’t sure if he in fact needed the stretcher again. He looked wretched. Sympathy painted his features as he glanced at Fernando who was shuffling, trying to get comfortable in his seat.

“Mate, are you alright?” Mark said as they stopped at some traffic lights. Fernando opened his eyes, which had been closed, and turned to Mark, giving him a small smile. 

“Am fi-”

“-Don’t say you’re fine, Fer. You’re not,” Mark said, pulling off as the lights turned green. Fernando sighed. 

“Just tired.”

“How’s your back?”

“Alright,” Mark gave him a disbelieving glance. “Really, Mark. Is fine. I would tell you if it hurt,”

“OK, I'm just checking,”

“And I love you for it,” Fernando smiled, resting back into the seat and closing his eyes again. Mark didn’t like this tired, defeated Fernando. It meant Fernando wasn’t right, wasn’t OK. And that fact saddened him. The rest of the journey to the hotel was silent and quick. Mark wasn’t sure if Fernando had fallen asleep or not next to him, but in any means he didn’t want to disturb him. He pulled up outside the hotel but when he turned to rouse Fernando the Spaniard was already sitting up, making Mark jump. Fernando frowned at him in confusion. 

“Sorry, you made me jump; I thought you were asleep,”

“I cannot sleep in cars,” Fernando smiled. They both climbed out of the car and Mark gave his car key to the valet and walked Fernando inside. They climbed the stairs until they reached Fernando’s floor and headed for his room. 

“What time did Dasha say she would be back?” Mark asked, leaning on the wall beside the door whilst Fernando opened it. Fernando shrugged. 

“She didn’t say. I told her to text me when she was heading back though,” Fernando said through a yawn as he pushed the door open and let himself in the room. As soon as Mark closed the door behind him Fernando pushed him against the door and caught his lips with his own. Mark gently placed his hands on Fernando’s lower back to support him on his toes and Fernando rested his hands on Mark’s torso. Mark hummed contently as Fernando dropped back to his normal height. He opened his eyes and looked down on the man he loved.

“That was an unexpected surprise,” Mark smiled. 

“Wanted to do that. Had to wait too long,” Fernando sighed, looking down at his hands. He looked back up at Mark and cupped his cheek. Mark closed his eyes again and leant into Fernando’s touch. 

“But waiting can sometimes make things better,” Mark said, looking deep into Fernando’s eyes. 

“I prefer to surprise,” Fernando smiled, catching Mark’s lips again. This feeling of utter freedom they had locked away in the hotel room was dizzying. Fernando wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck and brought him closer, loving the fact he could do exactly what he wanted and not have to hide. His fingers curled into Mark’s hair but Mark was being careful to not put any pressure on Fernando’s back. In all fairness, Mark thought Fernando shouldn’t have raced today. But he was determined, a fighter, and it was this passion in him that made Mark pushed him down so his feet were flat of the floor and continue there kiss slightly crouched. Mark slid one of his hands onto Fernando’s heart and broke the kiss, leaning their foreheads together and breathing each other in. There were no sexual urges in their movements together, just an understanding and a need to be with each other. 

“But not be surprised?” Mark smiled, winding their fingers together. 

“I do not mind surprises, for London I was tired,” Mark smirked at the memory. 

“Do you want to get ready for bed?” Mark asked. Fernando tried to suppress a yawn. 

“Not tired,” Fernando said, pulling into Mark. Mark laughed gently into his hair. 

“I won’t go, mate. I’ll stay right here,” There was a pause. 

“Then maybe am a little tired,” Fernando said and Mark couldn’t help but laugh at him. Fernando smiled up at him and let Mark lead him to the bathroom. Mark let go of Fernando’s hand to adjust the settings on the shower when he heard water running. Confused, he turned to see the water running into the bath. He looked at Fernando and saw the small smile on his face. He was leaning against the sink and Mark crossed the room and caught his face again, briefly. 

“Only if you want to, I mean, I don’t-” Fernando started. Mark cut off his words with another kiss.

“If you want my help, Fernando, just ask,” Mark said, running his fingers into Fernando’s now shorter hair. He preferred it when it was this length; it accented Fernando’s face. 

“Not necessarily help,” Fernando pouted. 

“But you want me there,” Mark smiled. Fernando looked up at him and nodded and Mark answered him with another kiss. 

A little while later they were both laying in the bath, Fernando’s back leaning on Mark’s torso, whilst Mark filled a sponge with water and ran it down Fernando’s bare, hairless chest. Such intimate and slow movements Fernando was feeling dizzy with love. He never wanted to give this up. It was something so special, so unique, he couldn’t believe anyone would understand if he tried to explain it to them. Because it was Mark and he, and it was too perfect to be shared. Through this rose-tinted haze the horrid realisation that there was only seven days left hit him at full force. He felt as if someone had pushed him under the tepid water that surrounded him and wouldn’t let him up. He momentarily couldn’t breath. Too much was being asked of him. Only when Mark’s hand landed gently on his shoulder did he resurface, as if Mark was the safety line he needed to survive. 

“What’s wrong?” Mark’s tone was soft but worried at the same time. Fernando didn’t like it; it lost all of its jokey, light-hearted quality.

“Nothing,” Fernando said, taking Mark’s hand from his shoulder in his own and playing with his fingers. 

“Fernando.” Fernando was glad he had his back to Mark; he couldn’t bear to see the expression that went with this uncharacteristic tone. He brought Mark’s hand to his face and pressed it into his cheek, closing his eyes. 

“Seven days,” Fernando muttered, the crushing sensation threatening to lick over him. But Mark was here and holding the Australian with his own hands helped him forced away the though.

“Yes,” Mark said in the same tone. Fernando sighed. 

“Then what?”

“Then nothing,” Mark’s casualness returned to his voice as he resumed with the sponge, making sure there were no foams of soap on the Spaniard’s torso. Fernando moved his hand away from his cheek, still keeping hold of it, and turned over his shoulder to look at Mark. 

“But it’s the edge of the cliff. Mark you know it won’t be the same-”

“-Then we will make sure it is,” Mark looked into Fernando’s eyes with a serious tone. “What we have is too good, mate. I’m not just going to let it go,”

“But I’ll hardly see you-”

“-Won’t happen. Fernando, we will make this work. I can’t loose you,”

“I don’t want to loose you either, Mark,” Fernando buried himself into Mark’s chest and Mark wrapped his arms around him, bringing him closer. He gently kissed Fernando’s forehead as he rocked slightly and slowly. 

“You can’t loose me,” Mark muttered soothingly. 

“You can’t loose me,” Fernando added, kissing Mark’s shoulder. For a few moments, they just sat in silence, holding each other. Fernando leant up and looked at Mark who smiled back at him. 

“Will you wait for me?” Fernando asked shyly. Mark didn’t know how to react. He wanted to reassure Fernando but he wasn’t sure if he understood the question. 

“I didn’t realise you were going somewhere,” Mark said lightly. Fernando sat up and looked at him with a puzzled expression. Maybe his question had confused him as well. 

“I’m not. But I know it is hard when you see me with Dasha but I’m not ready for the press yet and all the questions. I’m tired. So tired of all of these fights and secrets and the lies but I feel like I can’t stop. Not yet. And I need to know you are willing to wait because I hate what I’m doing to you,” Mark cupped Fernando’s face and made him look up at him. 

“I would follow you into the dark, Fernando. I’m not going anywhere. Ever. I would wait a thousand years if it meant I got you to myself. I know it’s difficult for you and I understand. I will wait.” Mark kissed him gently and they fell back to being them; the moment of worry and vulnerability passed. The got out of the bath and dried themselves off. Mark changed back into his jeans and Red Bull shirt and Fernando dressed in his pyjamas. Mark led Fernando to the bed and tucked him in, crouching down by his head and running his fingers through Fernando’s damp hair. 

“Sleep now, my darling, my love,” Mark said, placing a kiss on Fernando’s forehead. Fernando closed his eyes at Mark’s touch and when he opened them again they felt very heavy. He placed one hand on Mark’s cheek.

“Te quiero. Yo te amaré siempre, y si hay vida después de esto voy a amarte a continuación,” Fernando sighed, letting his eyes fall shut. Mark went to ask him to translate it but his tell tale breathing let Mark know he had fallen asleep. Mark lent close to him and pressed his lips gently to Fernando’s forehead. A small smile pulled at the Spaniard’s lips and Mark lent close to his ear. 

“You are my everything and I will never stop loving you.” Mark took a breath before putting into practice the one phrase of Spanish he had thus far learnt. “Te amor,”

Mark watched Fernando for a little while, looking so peaceful and relaxed in sleep. He hated the pressure that had been thrust onto Fernando’s shoulders and wanted more than anything to be the one to take it away. Seven days. Mark was reminded of the conversation they had had going to London. He wondered if maybe this had been bothering Fernando for longer than he had thought and that his supportive words to Mark on the subject were the things he tried to chant to himself to relax about it. But he had a point. However much they tried it wouldn’t be the same after the season ended. There would be weeks were Fernando would be racing and Mark would be racing and they could be on opposite sides of the world.

As Mark stood up to move to the other side of the bed he hear someone trying to open the door. He frowned and moved to the bedside table and unlocked Fernando’s phone. No messages. He put the phone back down and crossed the room trying to find the best place to hide. Before he could move any further the door opened and Dasha appeared, her expression that showed she was deep in thought morphing quickly into one of disbelief.

“Mark?” Dasha said in a loud voice. Mark stepped towards her, bringing his finger to his lips. 

“Shh! Fernando’s asleep,” Mark whispered, stopping about a meter in front of her. Dasha folded her arms but also dropped her voice to a whisper. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” she spat, glaring at Mark. 

“I gave him a lift to the hotel,”

“I though he was going to ask Andrea,”

“Andrea was busy,”

“That was helpful for you. And you just had to walk him up to his room and make sure he got into bed alright?” She glared at him a little longer before crossing to crouch beside Fernando where Mark had just been. She placed a hand on his cheek and Mark turned to face her, folding his arms. 

“I thought you were going to text Fernando when you were heading back?” 

“Why can’t you leave him alone, Mark?” Dasha whispered, turning her gaze from Fernando to Mark. Mark was confused.

“What? What are you talking about? I’m his-”

“-He’s not like you. He doesn’t think like that. He is with me,” The seriousness of her tone annoyed Mark the most. She really thought Mark was around him so much because he was trying to seduce him? Convert him? His fist clenched tightly. How dare she! Their relationship had been entirely Fernando’s instigation and if Fernando hadn’t have wanted it Mark wouldn’t have pursued it.

“I’m not going to understand what you’re implying, Dasha, because I think you’re being paranoid and not thinking,” he whispered back in an even tone that gave away his anger at her accusation. He gave her a chance to retract it. 

“Fine. But remember he is with me,” she said, turning back to the sleeping Spaniard in question. Mark took a deep breath to calm himself. 

“Wasn’t a very long shopping trip,” Mark commented, remembering Fernando’s explanation to why she wasn’t there. Dasha look back up at him, clear panic was in her eyes. “And you can’t have had much to drink,”

“I was just showing them the shops,” she dropped her gaze to the floor, taking her hand from Fernando. He moved in his sleep and both of them froze. Fernando rolled so he was more on his back and his head rolled in the direction of Mark. Mark turned his attention back to Dasha. 

“One shop?” he looked down at his watch. It had been an hour since Fernando and he had left the circuit. “It’s a twenty minute drive into the centre of Austin and a fifteen minute drive from there to this hotel. Either you’re very quick walkers or you’re talking bollocks,” Mark whispered bluntly. Dasha stood up and moved towards him. 

“We went from the track, I showed them a few shops and then we came back,”

“What happened to texting Fernando?” Dasha swallowed. 

“I forgot,”

“Liar.”

“Now you’re calling me a li-”

“-Don’t waste you’re breath, Dasha. I bet you made up this cock and ball story so Fernando wouldn’t have a problem with you disappearing. Then you didn’t go shopping and came back somewhere very close to here, a pub or a bar or a café. Something close, somewhere where you could talk to someone. You knew Fernando was tired so you happily assumed that he would be asleep when you got back. I recon you’re plan was to come in and busy yourself for a little while, give it a few hours, maybe read a book, then you would leave the room, go downstairs for a drink and send him a ‘I’m on my way’ text. Then you would come back up and explain how there was nothing interesting in the shops and you were just helping the others pick out some things. Am I right?” Dasha looked worried for a moment, but then a cool calmness settled on her features. 

“Seems you’ve got yourself a little plan there,”

“Just know how you’re working, Dasha,” He said, leaning close to her face. “Am I right?” There was another pause. 

“What does it matter anyway, the real question is why are you still here?” Her answer gave Mark the confirmation he needed. He felt a little bad that he had done a similar thing to Fernando. He hadn’t lied about where he had gone and didn’t have to try and sneak in afterwards, but he had lied about what he had spoken to Jenson about. 

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving now,” Mark spat, picking up his track bag and he headed for the door. He turned back with his hand on the handle. “Seb’s not a saint, Dasha. Whatever he’s told you is probably a lie. Just… don’t invest too much in him,” Mark pleaded genuinely. Though his words of warning fell on deaf ears. 

“I’m a big girl, Mark, I think I can handle this,” She spat, venom coating her words. He shook his head angrily at her.

“You really can’t.” He said, throwing the door open and departing into the corridor. A lead weight filled his stomach as he walked. He grew angrier at the fact it was him who was leaving when it should have been Dasha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't already I urge you to translate the last thing Fernando says: Te quiero. Yo te amaré siempre, y si hay vida después de esto voy a amarte a continuación.
> 
> ^_^


	20. Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The countdown to success always starts when you make up your mind to take one step forwards”   
> ~Unknown~

Six.

Fernando was staying in America for a few days. The deal was that he would arrive in Brazil on Wednesday and meet up with Mark for dinner after doing anything Ferrari needed him to. Wednesday was going to be there last night together with them both in Formula One and Fernando was desperate to make it special. He wanted to ask someone for help; the best person he could think of was Dasha but he couldn’t really ask her for the best way to spoil his boyfriend that she was unaware he had. 

And this is what led him to be staring off into the distance with his tea sitting in front of him, slowly going cold. Dasha had stopped talking five minutes ago just to see if he was even listening, which clearly he wasn’t. But she couldn’t even begin to imagine what could have him so distant. They had two days of just them in America before they flew to Brazil and Dasha was resolute she was going to rekindle what Fernando and she used to have. Guilt licked at her ankles, but her determination forced it to trickle onto the floor. She placed her hand gently on his, startling him slightly. He smiled at her. 

“Sounds fantastic,” He said, hoping he wasn’t agreeing to another meal with Sebastian. Dasha just gripped his hand tighter, showing her worry in her eyes. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Dasha said. Fernando looked at the table. 

“Oh…” Dasha took her free hand and placed it on Fernando’s cheek, making him look over to her.

“What wrong?”

“Nothing,” Fernando gave her a small smile but she didn’t buy it. 

“You’ve been staring over my shoulder intently for five minutes, Nano. Either the wall is causing you much confusion or you’re deep in thought,”

“It is a very bizarre pattern,”

“Fernando.” Fernando brought his eyes from the bizarrely patterned wall and back to Dasha. “Don’t hide it or lie just tell me what is wrong. You can trust me,” Fernando sighed. 

“It’s Mark,”

“Mark?”

“Yeah…” Fernando started to fiddle with the corners of his napkin as the hand that was on his cheek fell away, landing on top of the one clasping his hand. 

“What about him?” Dasha tried to hold the jealousy from her voice; she didn’t like the fact Mark was stealing Fernando’s attention even when he wasn’t here. And after she had found him in their hotel room… 

“It just feels odd,” Dasha frowned, slightly caught in her own thoughts and lost track of what Fernando was trying to imply. 

“Odd?”

“It’s always been inevitable, but now its here. This time next week he won’t be a Formula One driver… I can’t really think of the sport without him,” 

“You’ve been in it without him before,”

“Yeah, but that was twelve years ago, it was only one year he hasn’t been in the sport when I have and I can’t really remember it… I just… Oh, I don’t know, I’m just being stupid,” Fernando brought his hand out of Dasha’s grip and – along with his other – covered his face. 

“You’re not being stupid,” Dasha said, sitting back and raising her coffee mug to her lips. Fernando parted two of his fingers and look at her through the gap. 

“No?”

“No. It’s understandable for you to find this weird. He is your friend; you’re going to miss him. It will take you a while to adjust to him not being around,” Fernando dropped his hands back to the table. 

“But I’ll still see him at some point. It’s not like we’ll be cut out of each others lives completely,”

“Depends how busy he gets. Or yourself,” Dasha said, not looking at Fernando. He was starting to panic. Mark and he had to keep seeing each other; it was unbearable any other way. 

“We’ll find time,” Fernando said, more to himself. 

“I wouldn’t count on it,”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to make you see it won’t be the same, Fernando,” Dasha said, putting down her cup and resting her palms on the table, leaning closer to Fernando. He folded his arms thinking: she doesn’t know anything.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because he won’t be there every weekend. He will have his commitments and you will have yours. That’s just the way life goes. It’s been great for you that for twelve years you have got friendly but that won’t continue. Not as it is now. He’ll go one way and you will go yours. He’ll make new friends, get closer to other people. Sure, I recon you will still talk and maybe meet up, but this closeness you have won’t remain,” Dasha kind of couldn’t wait for the season to end; getting Mark out of her hair and away from Fernando was top of her priority list. Maybe she was being a little harsh, but ever since someone had told her Mark was gay she had always been sceptical about his close friendship with Fernando. And she had only known Fernando just over two years whereas he had twelve years of late night conversations and race weekends to recall on. She couldn’t help but feel as if the two of them had this unknown, secret thing going on that not even she was allowed into. It made her paranoid and she accused Mark of things that other people had told her couldn’t be true. 

Apart from Seb. He had confirmed her worst fear. 

“You don’t know that. You can’t know that. You don’t know what could happen, even tomorrow could change the course of things you thought you knew,” Fernando said in a slightly irate tone. Dasha looked at him suspiciously. 

“Is something going to happen tomorrow that will change that course?” she asked, watching Fernando change to a very defensive posture. They were fighting again. This was not going to help her fight the guilt that was threatening to consume her. Fernando looked at his hands. 

“Not that I’m aware of,” He muttered. Dasha reached for his hand again but he flinched them out of the way, letting them slide to his lap. He looked up at Dasha to register he confusion then hurt then anger that passed through her eyes. 

“You don’t seem so sure about that,” she said in a sharp tone. Fernando placed his hands back on the table.

“How am I supposed to know what will happen tomorrow? I can’t predict the future,” Dasha sighed. This was not going well. Not how she wanted it to go. 

“Fernando, we’ve got two days, OK? Two days that is just for us, no one else. So can we at least try to be like we use to?” The pleading in her eyes was too clear and caught Fernando off guard. 

“I don’t’-”

“-Just, until we get to Brazil can we not talk about anyone else, or the race or my job or anything, can we just be with each other?” Fernando lent forwards, confused by her request. He took her hand in his but it already felt too foreign and he felt like he was crossing a line he shouldn’t cross. Through his uncomfortableness, he tried to appear caring. 

“We are together, Dash,” Fernando smiled, lifting her hand to his lips and giving it a gentle kiss. She supressed the urge to smile because this wasn’t right, they hadn’t been right for too long and now was the time to sort it… While they still could. 

“But are we? Because I’ve been feeling so distant lately that it doesn’t feel-”

“-I understand,” He said, planting another kiss on her hand and then placing it on the table, interlinked with his own, and looked up at her. “Two days. Just us. No distractions,” She smiled thankfully at him and they left, draining their mugs and leaving some notes on the table. As they walked down the street, they didn’t hold hands. They were not connected at all; the connection felt wrong and extraneous. They didn’t talk much at all on the way back to the hotel. Once they were there he left Dasha for an hour or so to go and do some training with his Physio. After half an hour of training with no back pain, and no funny tape across his back, his mood shot through the roof and relief filled his system. Training without back pain meant it was just ache or strain in the muscles and nothing too serious. The rest of his workout was good; it felt great to feel like he was fighting for something again, preparing for the next race. 

When he returned to the hotel room Dasha was sitting crossed legged in the middle of their bed flicking through a magazine. She looked over to him and was almost shocked at the smile plastered all over his face. When he didn’t move, just stood in the small walkway to the door, Dasha got up. She had barely taken four steps before Fernando’s arms were around her waist and she was lifted into the air. He spun her round and couldn’t help but let the laughter roll through him as he took in her expression. Her arms were on his shoulders and when he placed her lightly on the floor they caught the back of his neck. Panic was on her face and he smiled down at her. 

“Fernando! You have to be careful. You’ve only got one race left, don’t wreck your-”

“-My back?” Fernando interrupted, changing Dasha’s expression from panicked to quizzical. 

“What have you done?” She asked sceptically and he laughed again. 

“I haven’t done anything, but it doesn’t hurt anymore,” joyful shock took over Dasha’s face. 

“Really?” She smiled and he nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, Fernando! That’s wonderful!” She threw herself into his hold and he lifted her from the floor again. Because he could. Because it didn’t hurt anymore. He put her back down and she lent back slightly, beaming into his face. 

“I’m going to shower and then we are going out for dinner,” He smiled. Caught in the giddiness of the moment, Dasha lent forwards and pressed her lips to Fernando’s. Fernando was too happy and his relief was spreading through him that all thoughts of Mark vacated his mind. And he kissed Dasha back.

\- - - - -

Five. 

Fernando woke up to the buzzing to his right. His left arm was, for some reason, trapped. Barely awake, he turned his head in the direction of the light that was emitting from his phone. He didn’t have enough energy to move so he just watched it until the buzzing subsided and the light went out. He sighed deeply and snuggled down closer to the second occupant of the bed. 

His eyes shot open and he stared at the ceiling as the events from the night before flooded into his conscious mind. He turned to look down on Dasha, who was curled up around his chest, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty. But not for lying to her… For cheating on Mark, if it could be called cheating. Technically, he was still in a relationship with Dasha and so he was cheating on her with Mark. But this way around, when it was Mark he was duplicitous to, he felt worse. He hated himself for what he had done. 

But it wasn’t like he had any romantic feelings for Dasha anymore. He was so happy, so relieved that he wasn’t in physical pain anymore he had bee swept away by their little game of pretending everything was normal. Caught up in the romantic ambiance and the elation at his relief Dasha’s seduction seemed mesmerising and when they had fallen on the bed, tangled up in each other and desperately trying to rid the other of their clothes, Fernando’s thoughts were no where but that moment. But now they were wondering. 

He didn’t love her; he loved Mark. And surely this was shinning true by his heart-breaking guilt that was flooding through his system. He had just got caught up in the moment. He didn’t need to convince himself because he knew it was true. He would play her game of being a couple until his feet landed in Brazil. Then he was Mark’s; this weekend wasn’t going to be about anyone else. Fernando smiled softly to himself and closed his eyes, thinking about what he could do to make everything perfect for the man he loved. 

That was when the phone started buzzing again. 

Fernando sighed as he opened his eyes. He freed his arm from underneath Dasha and had an impulse to get as far away from her as he could. Luckily, as they disconnected, Dasha rolled to the other side of the bed and Fernando got up gently, determined not to wake her. More shame covered him and he blushed as he looked down at his naked body. The fact he had no clothes on being a definitive sign that he had in fact, cheated on Mark. He blushed as he picked up his underwear and pulled it on, covering himself up. Once a little more decent, he moved to the bedside table and looked down at the phone. His stomach dropped. 

Mark was calling. 

He didn’t know what to do because he wanted to answer and explain, apologise, just hear Mark’s reassuring voice but he also knew Mark would not be happy. He would feel cheated. And that fact would be clear in his voice. But Fernando couldn’t not tell him…Right? If he didn’t he could just pretend it never happened. He was caught in the moment it hadn’t meant anything. But his conscience felt guilty and he knew he could lie to Mark. But if Mark didn’t ask… Was it lying? He just wasn’t telling him something. It wasn’t exactly lying, just leaving out a detail. He reached out to pick up his phone but it stopped ringing. Another pang of guilt hit Fernando as he saw Mark’s name on his lock screen and the number twenty in a bracket. Twenty missed calls and four text messages. Fernando grabbed the phone when it began again and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He perched on the edge of the bath and answered the call. 

“Ahh! Fantastic! You do know what to do when it rings!” Mark’s voice was annoyed and sarcastic. Fernando couldn’t really blame him; he had obviously been calling for a while. Fernando moved the phone from his ear momentarily to register the time: it was half eight in the morning to him so it was half twelve to Mark. 

“Sorry, I-”

“-Don’t worry about it, mate. I’m sure you had something much more important to be doing,” His tone didn’t shift and Fernando fidgeted uncomfortably.

“I was asleep,” Fernando muttered and Mark scoffed. 

“Maybe this morning, fine, but last night around half eight?” Mark’s tone was angry with a hint of disappointment. Fernando hated this tone. “I stayed up stupidly late so we could talk, like usual. The first missed call I just assumed you were busy, so I sent a text. No reply came and so half an hour I tried calling again. Still no reply. It got to four in the morning here and I assumed you were most definitely asleep so I gave up,” 

“Mark, I am-”

“-You know what? I don’t really want to hear it. I hope you had fun doing whatever you were doing,” Fernando tiredly rubbed his eyes and frowned. He still wasn’t really awake and he was feeling increasingly more and more guilty. 

“At least you know what it feels like now,” Fernando muttered, not truly intending on Mark hearing what he said. 

“Excuse me?” Fernando sighed and slid down the edge of the bath so he was sitting on the floor. He had started now he may as well finish. 

“When you blew me off for Jenson? Not a nice feeling to be forgotten about is it,”

“I didn’t forget you, mate, I told you I would be late, I let you know where I was,”

“And that was really nice to get when I was stuck in a hotel room afraid of doing anything in case I did something to my back. A whole week of no activity,”

“Must have been hell,” Mark spat down the line. It brought out a storm of irritation from Fernando. 

“Not like you would fucking care,”

“So this is where we are, is it, Fernando? You being immature to teach me a lesson?”

“No, Mark. I wasn’t being immature. I was, again, thinking of us and trying to keep Dasha happy so she doesn’t wreak things,”

“Too distracted with your girlfriend?” The acid on Mark’s words was unbearable. 

“Don’t call her that,”

“But that’s what she is, no? To the world, to everyone but me, she is your girlfriend.”

“She is not. Is complicated and you know this,”

“Yeah, does seem a little complicated,” Mark added sarcastically and Fernando couldn’t work out what he was trying to imply. 

“Why did you call? Do not enjoy being woken to be yelled at,”

“I don’t enjoy staying up half the night to try and get hold of you,”

“Have said I am sorry, what more do you want?”

“You don’t get it, Fernando. It’s fine for you; you walk around with her all day and pretend to be happy and then you come to me at night, as if everything is normal and that’s how this works. I just see you with her and I see what I want. What I want for us and it fucking hurts when I can’t have it and you forget me because you’re too busy pretending!”

“Mark, you know this will not work. We cannot be us, people will not understand. Surely it should be enough that you know I love you and would do anything asked before I let someone break us apart,”

“But when you forget me so easily-”

“-I was caught up, I am sorry. So sorry. She wanted two days to be us, and just us with no distractions. She had my phone in her bag all evening and I didn’t know you were calling. If I had have know I would have made an excuse to talk. You’ve got to believe me, Mark. I would never deliberately do anything to hurt you,”

“Two days of just you two?” Mark asked, dread in his voice. Fernando swallowed. 

“Yes, but when I get to Brazil I am yours. All yours,” There was a pause as if Mark was trying to decide whether or not to say something. 

“I’m sorry,” Mark sighed. 

“No, I am the one to be sorry. I didn’t mean to forget-”

“-I know, mate. I know.” There was a moment of silence and Fernando debated whether or not to tell Mark. Tell him what he had done but that it didn’t mean anything. Before he could talk, Mark’s voice was changing the subject. “So, what have you got planned today?”

“We fly to Miami about four,”

“Of course, you’ve got the basketball game,”

“Yes… But I’d prefer to be flying to Brazil…” Fernando mused. After everything that had happened last night and this morning Fernando wanted more than ever to be in Mark’s arms, just to let him know it was him, always Mark and no one else would ever come close to how he felt for the Australian. 

“Nah, you don’t want to do that. The game will be great, I can’t wait to hear about it,” Mark smiled and Fernando sighed. 

“Maybe not so great,”

“Why not? I’m sure you will love it. It was great for your friends to get you those tickets,”

“Yes, but I would prefer to take you… I miss you,”

“It’s been a day, maybe just a little more. We’ve been apart longer before and been fine,”

“But it’s your last race. I want to be there with you,”

“You will be. In the meantime, have fun and enjoy your game. And don’t be too hard on Dasha,”

“I won’t. But is hard, Mark… I want… To see you, I want your kisses,”

“Hey, what’s brought this on?” Mark’s tone turned sympathetic and worried. Fernando had gone all defensive and it made him worry he wasn’t telling him something. “I’ll be here when you turn up, I’ll still be here with you in six days time. I’m not leaving, Fernando. Never,”

“But if you get busy… If we can’t-”

“I don’t know who you’ve been talking to but whoever it is, ignore them. They don’t know shit about us and they don’t understand what we have, OK? Fernando, it will all work out. It will be perfect and we will still have and be what we are now,”

“OK,” Fernando said, a sole tear rolling down his cheek. He wanted to tell Mark so badly but he couldn’t bring himself to admitting what he’d done. It hadn’t meant anything and he knew that, there was no doubt in his mind. But he knew Mark wouldn’t see it like that. Just one more day. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mark smiled. 

“OK… I have a plan,”

“A surprise I’m guessing,” Mark laughed. 

“Yes, but no travelling required,”

“Alright mate, I’m looking forward to it,”

“Good. Am glad,” Fernando smiled as he wiped away his vulnerability with his finger, catching the tear on his cheek and pushing it into non-existence. 

“Have fun today, Fer. I love you,” Fernando closed his eyes and smiled. 

“I love you too,” As the line went dead his guilt spread through his system. He clutched his phone close to his chest and wished that is was Mark instead of the smooth back of his phone. He stood himself up and checked he looked normal in the mirror. Deciding he looked OK, apart from the obvious guilt in his eyes, Fernando left the bathroom to be confronted with Dasha looking at him with a confused expression, and dressing gown tied tightly around her waist. 

“Who was that?” She asked. Fernando stayed standing in the doorway. 

“My mum,” he lied but she seemed relieved. Maybe she had heard some of his conversation. His explanation obviously matched what she had heard and she smiled as she crossed the room and wrapped her hands around his neck. 

“OK, so what are we up to today?” She said, resting her forehead on his. He resisted the urge to push from her, as he so wanted to, feeling everything he did was another action against Mark. The Australian had become so clear in his mind now he couldn’t bear to think about anything else. He wanted to be with Mark, not Dasha. He wanted to take Mark to the game, not Dasha. He wanted to be holding onto Mark’s hips, not Dasha’s… He closed his eyes and pretended she was Mark. Pretended it was Mark’s hands resting on his torso. 

And that was how the day progressed. He pretended Dasha was Mark and it became a lot easier to pretend they were a couple. Sitting in the taxi, he pretended that it was Mark’s fingers entwined with his, and it was Mark’s head resting on his shoulder. It was Mark he had is arm around. This pretence made him see how clearly he enjoyed being the one to be led and held in the relationship. Mark’s height lent well to that and he missed having to stand on his tiptoes to gently brush the Australian’s lips. Before Fernando even realised it they were sitting in the grandstands looking down at the game of basketball. It was great to be watching one of the sports he loved live and he smiled. Dasha wrapped her hand around his and every now and again got Fernando to explain something. She had had such a wonderful day with him today and wondered if they had sorted themselves out. Two days of no distraction was maybe all they needed. But Fernando was still pretending. Even though he though Mark would have a pretty good concept of the game every time he answered one of Dasha’s questions he was answering Mark. They had each brought a Miami Heat flat cap and Dasha kept referring to how cute it was they matched, looking like a proper couple. Fernando just nodded and smiled at her, accepting her kiss. But he accepted it so easily because he was pretending it was Mark’s. 

He had taken a photo of himself to send as a thank you to the people who had got him the tickets. It really was amazing getting to watch the sport live. Dasha had lent into the frame and begged him to put it on his instagram, to show his fans what they were doing. Reluctantly, he had done so, adding the thank you to the bottom. He knew Mark would see it and wondered maybe if that was why Dasha had begged. 

Back in the hotel Fernando was, again, thinking of Mark. It became easier as Dasha, who had been curled around him, ran her hands down his sides and moved down his body in a very similar fashion to how Mark would have done. It was easier for him to feel less guilty if he let Dasha do all of the work. Though the guilt was still there. As he felt her warm breath dance over him, her lips close over his hard cock and when she finally straddled him, letting him breach her tight walls he tried so hard to believe it was Mark and not Dasha. 

He hated himself. More and more. He felt he was betraying Mark, playing this charade. And maybe it had only happened twice and maybe it didn’t mean anything to him, but he had still done it. He had still had sex with Dasha and he had still betrayed Mark. Even if it had been Dasha going through the motions and he basically just lay there letting her, he had still done that. Let her. Not even tried to make it stop.

She had curled close to him again that night but he was too awake, his dreaded thoughts too sobering. And he didn’t want her to be holding him, because it made his betrayal so much more real. Her arm across his stomach felt like a ten ton weight and she was holding him to what he had done, giving him no escape. He could feel the tears brewing in his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling, hating himself more and more. His breath caught in his throat and the crushing feeling of what he had done settled on his chest. 

“I’m sorry, Mark,” he whispered into the air as the tears over spilled from his eyes and rolled onto his neck. 

\- - - - -

Four. 

When Dasha woke up, again, Fernando wasn’t there. She frowned at the empty space beside her and propped herself up on her elbow, looking around the room. Fernando was zipping up a bag with his back to her. She saw a pile of her own clothes sitting on top of the chair and turned her attention back to Fernando.

“Fernando?” She questioned, confused by his actions. He kept his back to her. 

“Plane leaves in two hours, we need to get to the airport,” He said drearily. Dasha climbed out of the bed and moved behind Fernando, placing her hand on his shoulder. She didn’t understand. But as he shrugged out of her grip and crossed the room to the wardrobe it became clear. It was over; their little game was ended. She had had her two days and thought they had been a good sign. But Fernando was back to shutting her out as if she didn’t exist, mind distracted by other things he couldn’t say. And it was so blatantly clear that it had all been pretence that she couldn’t move. Frozen in shock as she felt the world crumble around her. Fernando passed by her again, checking he had their plane tickets. “It won’t wait,” he said harshly to Dasha. His words brought her out of her trance and she moved to the bathroom picking up her clothes on the way. 

He had cheered up significantly since he had entered Mark’s room. Ferrari hadn’t needed him for anything so he had gone straight to the hotel, checked him and Dasha in, taken his bags to their room and then headed to Mark’s. As the tall frame of the Australian came into view, Fernando threw his arms around his neck and buried his face into Mark. Mark laughed into his hair and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. 

“Don’t try to take me out, mate,” Mark joked as he kissed the top of Fernando’s head. His hands instinctively linked with Fernando’s and he felt the younger man relax into his body. Fernando’s arms were still tightly wrapped around his body and Mark looked down into his face, cupping his cheek and tilting his head up to look at him. “Hey, you alright?” Fernando smiled softly at him. 

“Perfect now,” Fernando said and caught Mark’s lips with his own. He tried to force the reminders of Dasha from his head; she wouldn’t ruin this for him. They settle on the bed and found a really bad film to watch so they could mock the acting and ordered room service. Fernando had planned their evening to be all about Mark and he knew this would be preferred rather than dressing up and going out. Mark wrapped his arm around Fernando who moulded to the side of his body with one hand resting gently on Mark’s torso. 

“How can you even believe this?” Fernando scoffed as the man on the screen was being too over dramatic for the situation. 

“It’s a rom-com, that’s what happens. It’s all over emphasised,”

“But it’s so unrealistic,”

“Do you really think that a movie where it took forever for the two people to get the guts to realise they like each other and slowly developed their relationship would make for a very good plot line,”

“We would be a very good plot line, better than this unrealistic garbage,”

“We are a very good plot line,” Mark said, kissing Fernando. Fernando curled closer to him and sighed contently. This was how it was meant to be; perfect with no complications. The girl in the film got on a train and sat at a window seat, silent tears running from her eyes, whilst the over dramatic guy ran in slow motion as the train began to pull away from the station. Fernando scoffed again, throwing a hand towards the television. 

“What does he think he can do? Catch a moving train?”

“He’s trying to catch her, mate,”

“But she won’t even be on the train. He will think she has gone and then turn around and…” Fernando paused as what he had said happened in front of them. The guy turned around and they both burst into tears running into each other’s arms. “Is very predictable,” Mark rolled himself over so he was on top of Fernando, lifting himself off the Spaniard with his arms. Mark was aware of the fact he had been less strict on himself with his training and diet because the World Endurance Championship was a lot less strict than Formula One. He was enjoying letting his sweet tooth run a bit wild. He was conscious that he was probably a little heavier than he had been previously. 

“Not a fan of predictable then?” Mark said, bringing his lips closer to Fernando’s ear. Fernando tried to focus on answering the question, which he had immediately forgotten. 

“I prefer action,” he said in what he believed was an even tone. Mark was being so tantalisingly close but never enough to send the wave of passion through Fernando. He was teasing him and Fernando couldn’t bear another second. “Mark, I-”

“-Be careful what you ask for, Fernando…” Mark let one of his hands slide down Fernando’s side and tuck just into the top of his boxers. Fernando tried to keep his breathing normal but Mark was making it so difficult. Mark brought his face close to Fernando’s and could feel the Spaniard’s hot breath on his face; see the passion and lust in his eyes. “You just might get it,” He closed the gap between them and caught Fernando with his own mouth. Fernando pushed him back so he rolled onto his side and brought himself closer to Mark, one arm sliding under his shirt and across his back and the other tangling into his hair. Mark’s now free hand flew to Fernando’s hair and he noted the long strand at the nape of his neck needed a haircut. 

When they broke apart due to the knock at the door Mark smiled at the state of Fernando’s hair. It really was incredible that it had been the perfect length only four days earlier. Fernando had had it trimmed back a little before the American Grand Prix, but not nearly enough. Now it had grown out and Mark had pushed it into a crazy mess. The knock came again and as Mark moved to get up Fernando bounded over the bed heading towards the door. 

“It’s my hotel room, the knocker is probably looking for me,” Mark said, making himself comfortable on the bed with no intentions of moving, resting on hand behind his head and watching the credits of the film scroll up the screen. Fernando turned back to look at him. 

“You won’t let me do things so I have to beat you to it,” Fernando said, but Mark couldn’t take him seriously with the state of his hair. He didn’t tell Fernando about it as he continued to the door for two reasons: one, it was probably the room service they had ordered and it was punishment for Fernando getting the door; and secondly, because Fernando looked so damn hot in a mess he didn’t want to loose the image of perfection he had been given, knowing he, Mark Webber, had created it. Fernando smiled coyly, feeling Mark’s eyes watch him as he crossed the room. But the smile dropped from his face as soon as he took in the man now looking at him with confused, disbelieving eyes. 

“Fernando?” Christian asked, almost dropping the file in his hands. Because it wasn’t just Fernando Alonso he had been presented with. It was flushed, hair in a mess Fernando Alonso who looked like he had just been caught out. Mark recognised the voice instantly and sprang off the bed.

“Hi, Christian,” Fernando said, looking at the floor and blushing bright red. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to run and hide but he couldn’t think of a reasonable explanation as to why he was here in Mark’s room, answering the door. He felt Mark’s arm wrap around his waist before it slipped away and the Australian stood in front o him in a protective manner, blocking him from sight. Fernando stepped backward until his back hit the wall, the opened door blocking him from Christian’s view. 

“Evening, Christian. How can I help?” Mark said in a very casual tone. Christian open and closed his mouth a few times, unable to speak, before he looked down at his hands and composed himself, holding the file out to Mark. 

“There are just some things in here you need to look over before the weekend. Preferable tonight, though if you’re too busy…” Christian let his train of thought end and looked down at his hands again. Mark took the file from him. 

“I’ll get straight on it,” Mark smiled, but Christian just walked away, mumbling something to himself about coloured pens and post-it notes. Mark shut the door and lent his forehead on it for a second, taking in what had just happened. Well, that was eight. He dropped the file on the desk and move over to the wide-eyed Fernando pressing himself against the wall. 

“Fernan-”

“”-Fucking great. Just… Fuck!” Fernando pushed himself off the wall and began to pace in front of Mark. “I bet you Seb planned that. Great, yes, of course he fucking planned it. Because he knew we weren’t prepared, unsuspecting, acting like we were safe, but we’re not,” Fernando was rambling to himself, not looking at Mark. 

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s just Christian he won’t-”

“-Won’t he?” Fernando stopped and turned to face Mark, eyes full of panic. “Because last time I check he was Sebastian’s lap dog, making sure everything was to Sebastian’s standard and forgetting you. Why would he be looking to do you any favours, Mark? You won’t be his driver in five days time, what stops him then?” 

“Sebastian,” Mark said, leaning his foot on the desk chair like he did on the railings in the press pen and when he was talking on the podium. Fernando looked more confused than ever. 

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah, it will be his choice and I’ve got a feeling he’s got something worse planned behind closed doors before he makes us public knowledge. No one will talk until he tells them to. Like you said, Christian is Seb’s lap dog. If they don’t do what he wants he just threatens to leave the team,” Mark took Fernando in his arms and muttered in his ear: “For now, we’re safe,”

When the room service did come Mark answered the door and Fernando hid in the bathroom. He had claimed he had needed the toilet, but Mark knew him better than that. He was too afraid it was going to be a repeat of earlier. They had devoured the food and were sitting in each other’s arms with some relaxing music playing. It was quarter to nine and Fernando was watching the sky outside the window with Mark’s arms securely around him. They had an hour and fifteen minutes before Fernando had to leave for his own room. Mark was drawing little patterns on Fernando’s back and the Spaniard could feel himself drifting into sleep. Gently, Mark lifted his shirt off and revealed the tattoo on Fernando’s back. 

“I love this,” Mark said, running his fingers over the black lines creating the image. Fernando shivered in pleasure. 

“Mmm?” Fernando sighed. Mark’s lips fell at the base of his neck, where the image started, and followed the curve of his shoulder round until his cheek was resting on Fernando’s.

“It’s so very you,” Mark said, placing a kiss on Fernando’s cheek. The younger man turned his head so he was looking at him. 

“You should get one,” Fernando said and Mark laughed. 

“Yeah, OK,” Fernando rolled over, confused. Mark kept his fingers constantly in contact with Fernando’s bare flesh. 

“I thought you said you liked?”

“On you,”

“What makes you any different?”

“I couldn’t pull it off, mate,” Fernando cupped Mark’s face.

“If you wanted to you could,” Mark still look dubious but Fernando moved on to a point he wanted Mark to know before they embarked on his final weekend. “Mark?”

“I couldn’t pull off something like you’ve got,” Mark mused. 

“There was something I wanted to tell you,” Fernando played with the collar of Mark’s shirt. 

“All ears,”

“This weekend is special for me, for you and for us,”

“I think I understand,” Fernando looked into Mark’s eyes. 

“For me; this is the last time I will be able to say I am with a Formula One driver,” Mark smiled at his comment and Fernando continued. “You; because is your last race in F1 and for us; this is the last time things will be like they began,”

“Fer, don’t say-”

“-This is not a bad thing. All things must progress otherwise there would be nothing to look forward to. Our first chapter is ending and we are beginning a new one. This is special,”

“Ok… So…?”

“So, I want you to know this weekend is not about me. It is for you. No matter where we qualify, where we finish the race or where we end up in between. This is yours and I want you to know that,”

“Thanks, Fer. That’s nice,”

“And I wanted to begin with that. All about you and not me,” Fernando’s hands slid down Mark’s body and rested on his hips. Fernando’s eyes had become devious and that made Mark a little nervous. As Fernando began undoing his jeans Mark caught his hands. 

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, bub. I love you and I don’t need anymore-”

“-I’m not trying to prove anything, Mark,” Fernando said, removing his hands from Mark’s hold and lifting his shirt over his head. As Mark’s head was revealed and the shirt discarded Fernando caught his lips in a kiss. So delicate and tender and full of love Mark felt light-headed and held Fernando’s shoulders to stop himself from floating away. Fernando’s hands travelled downwards again and, whilst keeping Mark distracted with his kisses, finished undoing his jeans and pushed them downwards, slipping one hand within Mark’s boxers and taking hold of his cock. Mark hissed, breaking Fernando’s kiss and let his head fall back. Fernando moved himself so his was lying on top of Mark. Mark’s hands were brushing down Fernando’s sides when Fernando stopped what he was doing to remove them.

“No,” Fernando said, retaking hold of Mark. 

“But I-”

“-This is not about me, Mark. You’re the special one,” Fernando caught his lips one last time before creating a path of smaller kisses down his torso. Mark tried to calm his breathing, but when Fernando pushed the cotton from his waist, leaving him completely exposed it caught in his throat. He released a moan as Fernando’s lips wrapped around his throbbing length. Slow and painful and first, Fernando had Mark whimpering and pleading for more. He made sure to only just take Mark in his mouth, teasing him and feeling the pressure building the man below him as he squirmed, trying to release the tension. Fernando smiled before releasing Mark and stroking his hand slowly down his length and cupping his ball, watching as he cursed the air and still fought to get some kind of friction.

“Fuck, Fernando. Please…” Mark’s hand tangled into Fernando’s hair as the Spaniard took him in his mouth again. He picked up a pace that had Mark begging for more but relishing in the deepness. Fernando was cautious not to push himself too far and kept one hand entertaining Mark’s balls and listening to his glorious cries of pleasure. Fernando could feel his own erection rubbing against the rough denim casing his legs but this wasn’t about him. This was about pleasuring Mark. 

“Shit. Fer…I’m so clo… Fuck, mate… I ca…” Mark was panting and his breath was becoming faster. Fernando knew what was coming and Mark thrust into his mouth, pushing himself a little deeper than Fernando had been going as the warm liquid filled his mouth. At first, Fernando thought he was going to choke on the stuff filling his mouth so fast, but he closed his eyes and swallowed, feeling the warmth trickle through him. He sucked off the reminiscence of cum from Mark’s cock before he released him. Mark pulled him up his body and kissed him deeply, pushing his hands roughly into Fernando’s trousers. 

“Mark, no. Not about-” Fernando started as the knot of pleasure tighten in his stomach at Mark’s touch.

“-I have to return the favour,” Mark smiled as he pushed Fernando’s trousers and boxers down to his ankles, taking Fernando’s hard, swollen cock in his own hands. Fernando was already so wound up by witnessing Mark’s orgasm that his seemed to burn through him after only a few strokes. 

“Mark! Please! Fuck!” Fernando buried his head in Mark’s shoulder and Mark momentarily stopped what he was doing.

“How close are you?” He asked in the calmest voice he could. Fernando’s panting was stimulating. 

“So… So close... Mark… I…” Fernando exasperated, not able to finish his sentence. Mark pushed him back onto the bed and moved down to his waist, taking him deeply in his mouth. Fernando cried out at the new, unexpected pleasure and released himself into Mark’s mouth. He lay panting and Mark moved up the bed and lay next to him, linking their hands. It took them both a moment to catch their breath. 

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Fernando breathed, looking over at Mark. 

“Yeah, but I wanted it to. Can’t have you being sexually wound up for the race… Imagine what Stefano would say,”

“I don’t want to, thank you,” Fernando said, wrinkling his nose and turning back to the ceiling. Mark smirked over to Fernando. 

“I recon you would be really snappy and they wouldn’t understand. Andrea would probably beg me to sort you out,”

“Not the idea of this weekend,”

“I know you want it to be about me, mate, but that includes you,”

“I want you to feel special,” Fernando said, turning back to Mark. 

“I do feel special. Every moment I am with you and I can’t believe my luck,”

“The same here, though I am luckier,” Fernando moved closer to Mark and rested his head on Mark’s shoulder. 

“No chance, I am definitely the luckiest of the two of us here,”

“I suppose, in the sense that you get to have your wonderful self all of the time,”

“I’m only wonderful because you make me,” Fernando looked up at him with so much love in his eyes. And he could see them reflected back from the man he couldn’t live without.

“Nope. You are wrong. I am nothing that amazing,”

“You have no idea,” There was a small pause before Fernando spoke again. 

“Have you felt this way before?”

“What do you mean?”

“About anyone else,” Mark thought about it for a second. 

“No. You?”

“Never,”

“I’ll be forever yours, mate. Only you,” Mark said, bringing Fernando’s face to his and kissing him. Mark never wanted to leave this moment; it was too perfect, too wonderful to be spoiled. But all good things have to end. Fernando dressed slowly, trying to prologue the moment he had to leave. He didn’t want to but he knew he had to. Mark lay on the bed and watched him, taking in the flawless lines his body formed. How he could have got such a wonderful man he didn’t know, but he never wanted to let him go. He sighed as Fernando left the room, a cloud of sadness after the Spaniard kissed him intensely and left. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Mark called. Fernando turned back.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he smiled and Mark watched him disappear. Soon. Very soon.

Fernando’s walk back to his room was boring and filled with stops. He wanted to go back to Mark not up to Dasha and her pretence. He didn’t want to pretend anymore; he wanted to stay with Mark and be happy, uncomplicated. But not yet. Just until the end of the season and then he could have everything he wanted with no obligations. He sighed as he unlocked his room door and let himself in. His eyes fell instantly on the woman standing in front of him; black lines down her face where she had been crying and her make-up had run. Dasha was staring at the floor, just off the corner of the bed. A concern of worry filled Fernando as he moved into the room. 

“Dash?” Her name made her look up and fresh tears fell from her eyes. 

“I think we need to talk, Fernando,” her voice was thick with sadness and dread dropped in his stomach.


	21. Brazil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They have a joy for life in Brazil unlike any country I've ever seen.”  
> ~Morena Baccarin~

Three. 

The last day he would have to go to a track on a Thursday. That thought had him smiling because he really didn’t enjoy all the press conferences and obligations he had on a Thursday. Mark knew that today he would be swarmed. Everyone would want to talk to him and know what he was thinking, how he was feeling. But he felt indifferent. It just felt like the last race of the season. Yes, there were some things he would miss about the paddock but he had accepted this was the end. It was on his terms and he wanted to leave whilst everyone thought he was still good. He didn’t want to flake and be forced out of the sport when he wasn’t ready. He was ready for the next challenge. 

But today he was too busy. He didn’t even have the chance to breath, let alone try and find Fernando. He wanted Fernando to be able to stay with him through the day, hold his hand and make him smile when things got boring, help him through his last time. But Fernando had his own Ferrari obligations and Mark knew that. The morning had been painful, being dragged around to all of the different sponsors, smiling for photos and giving his words. He didn’t care what they all thought of him anymore; he didn’t need to. So it made it harder to be polite and smile to those whom he had no respect for.

He was walking towards the FIA interview building, heading for the drivers press conference, when Jenson caught his shoulder. Mark had initially thought it was Fernando; he hadn’t seen the Spaniard all day and when he had passed the Ferrari press pit in a spare few seconds he hadn’t seen him there. He was beginning to worry, but Jenson forced him to put up a front. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jenson joked, falling into step beside Mark. Mark smiled. 

“Not for much longer,” Mark added and Jenson gave him a sad smile. “Surprised you could find me at all,”

“I wondered what that mob was,” Jenson teased as if suddenly understanding. Mark laughed. “I’m a little surprised you’re on your own though,” Mark frowned over at him. 

“Why?” 

“I just thought it being your last weekend you would have…” Jenson wanted to phrase it as if it were a light-hearted joke but that appeared to be harder than he first thought. “Fernando,” Jenson muttered and Mark understood. 

“He’s got his own things to be doing,” Mark smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Jenson caught his wrist and stopped him moving forwards. 

“Is something wrong?”

“No, everything is fine, mate,”

“I can see what he does to you, how happy he makes you,” Jenson dropped his voice, too aware that a lot of people had their attention on Mark today. 

“Happier than I’ve ever been,” Mark sighed.

“Exactly, so I don’t understand why he’s not here, pouting that he can’t hold your hand or something. He feels the same, Mark. You can see it in his eyes when he talks to you,”

“I’ve never known him as an obvious person,”

“Maybe not to others, but when I see you talking you’ve both got that same look. Maybe it’s because I know it from you that I can see it in him, but it’s there,” Mark smiled at this fact and gave Jenson a nod of thanks. 

\- - -

He wasn’t focusing on what the press were asking, and that was probably very stupid. His mind was caught up with Fernando and the things Jenson had said. How his own feelings for the Spaniard had been echoed in those gorgeous brown eyes. And not just for him but for the whole world to read. It appeared that Fernando was so in love with Mark he couldn’t contain it. Mark had to fight hard to not let a love-filled smile creep onto his face. 

But he needed to not be thinking about Fernando because the press were asking him questions, like they had been all day. They obviously hadn’t had enough, asking him how he felt – and he repeated the truth for the hundredth time that day – what he thought about the way Formula One was changing next year, was he sad he was leaving. Everything he had already been asked. 

“A Question for Mark,” His name sparked his attention and he looked forwards into the room, giving a small smile as he found the man with the microphone. “Obviously, a lot of people highly respect you in the paddock and you have a lot of friends, but are there any people you will miss next year, any people you will miss working with?” The question caught Mark slightly off guard and he focused on not mentioning Fernando. 

“Yeah, I mean, there are some great people on the team and I will miss them. It’s not everyday you get to work with talent like Adrian, Adrian Newey, so that has been something special that I probably won’t ever do again. Christian has always been a great support and fighting with Seb will be missed,” he joked, causing the room to laugh a little. “But yeah, the drivers on the grid are all great guys and so I will miss them all but I’m starting fresh, a new chapter, so, I mean, if anything was going to be too much then I wouldn’t be leaving. It’s the right times for me, I think. There are more negatives than positives now,” 

“And when you talk about the drivers, Fernando Alonso and yourself have a very close relationship in and out the paddock. Is that something that you will try to continue or will that go when you start your new chapter?” Mark tried to keep an even voice as he replied. It was as if the journalist had looked into his mind and chose the one question he didn’t want to answer in fear of giving away too much. 

“It’ll all depend on what happens next. Fernando and I are good friends so I recon so,” Mark sat back, hopefully signalling for them not to push the subject. It didn’t work. Another journalist took the microphone.

“Mark, Fernando gave a statement the other day about you being an ‘old school’ driver, a gentleman driver, something it appears he is going to miss, what do you think of this statement?”

“Well, I’m not really sure what he means by ‘old school’. I know I’m getting old for the sport,” more laughs followed this and Mark took the opportunity to fall silent and try to collect his thoughts. “But, yeah, it’s a nice compliment,” Mark couldn’t think of anything else to say. Everything else he wanted to could give a double meaning, imply something about their relationship. The questions fell to Felipe and Mark wanted to leave, go and find Fernando. As soon as the conference was closed Mark got up and, not waiting for Felipe to move, climbed onto the Brazilian’s chair and jumped off, stalking out of the room. 

But Fernando was a little too good at hiding and although Mark tried, in his spare moments, to track him down it was to no avail. He returned to the hotel later that night, knackered and exhausted from having to fake a smile all day. He checked his phone but there was nothing, no messages, no missed calls. He tried calling Fernando but when it cut off after two rings he knew Fernando had rejected his call. He lay on the bed facing the door still dressed in his jeans and team shirt. Maybe Fernando would come down. Maybe that was why he wasn’t answering his call. Or maybe he was just stuck somewhere with Dasha and couldn’t talk right now. But three hours later, when Mark finally drifted to sleep, Fernando still hadn’t appeared. 

\- - - - -

Two. 

Friday practice was disrupted. They weren’t really running and that wasn’t helping Fernando not think. He wanted to throw himself into the car and race down the circuit too quickly, only thinking about the next turn. But too alike in Austin there was a lot of rain and teams didn’t want to start wasting tyre because the forecast was very similar for the rest of the weekend. Dasha was somewhere in the garage but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to see her and he didn’t want to have to think about anything anymore. He was so confused and just didn’t know what to do. Andrea had been watching him from across the garage as his frown got deeper and deeper and the annoyance began to shine clearly in his eyes. 

“Why don’t you go for a walk?” Andrea suggested quietly in his ear. Fernando looked up at him with a pained expression. 

“What?” Fernando said in a small voice. 

“We’re not going to do any running for a while. Just… Go for a walk for five minutes and come back. I’ll tell the team you’ve gone to the toilet.” Andrea placed a hand on his shoulder and Fernando nodded, getting himself up. He crossed through the back of the garage and appeared in front of the Ferrari motor home. He was tempted to go into his cool down room and just lay on his bed but there was expensive stuff in there and it was highly likely he would break something. He began to walk down the paddock, keeping the Red Bull garage behind him. 

What sucked the most was that he couldn’t talk about this. He couldn’t ask anyone for advise and he couldn’t just get it of his chest. He wanted to, so badly wanted to, but he couldn’t tell anyone. This was his problem and he was going to have to work it out on his own. Although there wasn’t really anything to work out, there was one answer and he had to take it. Though that complicated things to the upmost scale. He ran his hands over his face and into his hair. He didn’t want to be doing this right now. This wasn’t fair. His hands stopped at the back of his neck and he closed his eyes, letting his teeth grit and feeling the anger of confusion flood through him. This was the wrong time for the unknown person to grab his shoulder and spin him round. He glared at Jenson with anger that wasn’t directed at him but was slightly shocked to have his glare matched. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jenson spat. Fernando folded his arms. 

“Standing here, being yelled at apparently,” Fernando stated sarcastically. 

“Don’t get fucking clever with me, Fernando. What the fuck is your problem?” Fernando had never seen Jenson so heated before.

“My problem? I think you are the one with the problem,”

“No, because I’m not the one fucking around,” Jenson’s face was getting closer to Fernando’s and the Spaniard was starting to get uncomfortable.

“What are you talking-?”

“-Seen Mark lately?” Jenson growled, showing Fernando he already knew the answer. 

“No. I’ve been busy,”

“But not too busy to show Dasha off to the world,” A frown set on Fernando’s face at Jenson’s words. 

“What?”

“You’re still with her! You’re with Mark but you’re still with her! Tell me how that is not fucked up!”

“Jenson, I don’t know what you are talking about but I don’t think you understand-”

“-I understand perfectly, Fernando. You’d prefer to play pretend with Dasha than spend time with Mark. I wondered why Mark seemed a little off this morning so I asked him and he explain that it was hard sometimes that he didn’t get to see you some nights because you were stuck with Dasha. You just forgot about him last night because you were ‘busy’ with her?”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply,” Fernando said through gritted teeth. He knew perfectly what Jenson was saying; he just didn’t believe he had the guts to accuse him of two-timing Mark. 

“Yes you do. You can’t do this to him! Pick him or her now and be done with it!” Fernando sighed, looking at his feet. 

“It’s not as simple as that,” Fernando muttered. Jenson’s mouth fell open in shock. Fernando couldn’t really…? No, there had to be some kind of mistake. 

“It is. You pick one and then leave the other.”

“I can’t just… Do that,”

“You know what, I was wrong,” Jenson started, wide eyed in anger glaring at Fernando. Fernando looked up, confused. “When I told Mark to wait for you? I should have told him to run. Run far because you are a disgraceful piece of shit!” 

“You don’t have a fucking clue what you are talking about!” Fernando spat back, his anger all directed at Jenson.

“See, and that’s what you think! Selfish, uncaring wanker! I can’t even bear to look at you! He has given you everything! Fucking everything he has to offer and you can’t even fucking return it? Not even a little bit? You’re unbelievable!”

“You don’t think I know what he’s given me? You don’t think I want more than anything to give it back? All of it? I know I don’t deserve him, Jenson! I know all this, but you don’t understand!”

“Then why don’t you try to explain?”

“I can’t. It’s just… Complicated,” Fernando sighed, still feeling his anger bubbling under the surface of his skin. 

“I’m sure he’ll hang around for complicated,” Jenson shot sarcastically. 

“What the fuck is your point?” Fernando growled. 

“I want you to go in there and make this right! He deserves at least that!”

“Last time I check you couldn’t tell me what to do,”

“I’m not telling you what to do, I'm telling you what you have to do,”

“This has nothing to do with you so why don’t you stay out of it? You don’t own us, you don’t own Mark and you most definitely don’t own me,”

“Because at least one person round here should be looking out for him,”

“And you don’t think I do a sufficient job?”

“More like non-existent,”

“Stick to fucking up your own life, yeah, Jenson? How about you leave mine alone,” Fernando turned around and started heading back to the garage. So much for clearing his head, he felt more wound up than ever. 

“Cause it’s not just about you anymore. I’m his friend, Fernando, and I won’t see you hurt him,” Fernando stopped in his tracks and turned back to Jenson with incredulity on his face. 

“You don’t honestly think I would deliberately hurt him?” Jenson shrugged. 

“It’s what you’re doing now,” Fernando’s fists clenched as he moved back towards Jenson. 

“You haven’t got a fucking clue. This is none of your business, Jenson, so fuck off back to your own shit because I’ve had enough of this. I love him and he knows that, I don’t love Dasha. That’s what makes this so hard! After all the shit I have given him he is still here, with me. Most people would have left and I expected him to, but he hasn’t. And I hate myself more and more each day because of what I’m doing,” Jenson watched Fernando talk with his arms folded. It was surprising how open Fernando was being but Jenson couldn’t shake the fact he was still with Dasha even though he didn’t love her. That wasn’t right. 

“Yeah, that hating yourself really shows,” Jenson said sarcastically, breaking Fernando’s last straw.

“What.” Fernando said with a dark expression. He looked ready to kill. 

“You can’t not love her if you can’t break it off with her,” Jenson lent forwards so his face was level with Fernando’s. “So I guess that means you’re lying to him,” Fernando lurched forwards at Jenson but the Brit caught his fist too easily and pushed it away, sending Fernando and his momentum into the back wall of the McLaren garage. Jenson moved forwards to attack Fernando, letting his anger at the Spaniard fly in the momentum of his fist, but as he did Fernando caught his side and Jenson’s palm opened sending a ricocheting slap across his cheek. Both in pain, they straighten up to go again, both of them with anger pulsing through them. 

“HEY!” Mark yelled as he sprinted over to the scene. Fernando and Jenson were tangled in each other, both trying to cause more pain whilst dodging the other. “Hey, hey, hey! Woah, wo-wo-woah, stop!” Mark pushed himself between the two of them breaking them apart holding one hand out to each of them to prevent them getting any closer. He had asked Andrea where Fernando was after seeing the shot of his garage empty on the television screen. He hadn’t expected to find Jenson and Fernando fighting; he had come out the back with the intention of just seeing Fernando for the first time that day. They were both panting hard and the red mark on Fernando’s cheek was becoming more prominent. “What’s going on?” Mark shifted his eyes between the two of them but Fernando and Jenson were just glaring at each other. 

“Ask your boyfriend,” Jenson spat as Mark turned his confused face to him. “If you can even call him that,” Fernando’s jaw locked and he pounced forwards again towards Jenson. Mark caught him easily and held him back. 

“Woah! Calm down!” Mark said keeping both of his hands on Fernando’s shoulders. He turned his head to Jenson. “What the fuck?”

“You need to get some more friends, Mark. They’re currently very delusional,” Fernando shot over Mark’s shoulder. 

“At least they don’t fucking show him up!” Jenson growled and Mark turned to face him, moving one hand from Fernando. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Mark said. 

“I don’t have time for this,” Fernando spat, pushing Mark’s arm off his shoulder and walking down the paddock towards the Ferrari garage. 

“Fernando!”

“Don’t waste your time on him, Mark,” Jenson said, brushing himself down. Mark spun on his heels. 

“What the fuck did you do?”

“He needs to explain himself, Mark! He’s a selfish little-”

“No, there is only one person in this paddock that is selfish and it definitely isn’t him,” Mark said, moving away from Jenson and heading towards Fernando. 

“You’re wasting your time, Mark!” Jenson called angrily to his retreating figure but it was pointless. Jenson shook his head and returned to his own garage. Fernando didn’t turn at the call of his name because he couldn’t deal with it. Just hearing the plea in Mark’s tone made him feel heavy with guilt and he didn’t want to hear it. Ever. Four paces from the safety of his garage and Mark caught him. 

“Mark, please. Not now,” Fernando said without turning around. 

“Fernando, you’re worrying me,”

“Is not the time, Mark, leave it,”

“When will it be the time, Fernando?” Mark said, the worry becoming clear in his voice. Fernando turned around and wished he hadn’t. Mark looked so broken and he felt responsible. He couldn’t stand it. He shook his head, looking at the floor. 

“Not…”

“Are you ever going to explain?” Mark’s voice broke on the sentence and Fernando squeezed his eyes shut. 

“I’m sorry,” Fernando said. 

“Fucking perfect, Fernando. Great timing,”

“Mark, please. You don’t understand,”

“And you’re not going to explain so I’ll do what I want,” Mark said before turning away and heading back into his garage. Fernando opened his mouth to tell Mark he could explain later, but the Australian had already disappeared. He felt wretched as he re-entered his own garage and passed Andrea on his way to picking up his helmet. 

“Walk was fantastic,” Fernando said sarcastically. Andrea’s smile slid off his face as he saw the red mark across Fernando’s cheek. 

“What happened?” Andrea asked, worry on his voice. Fernando just shook his head and pulled on his helmet, wanting more than anything to drive away from here and not look back. 

\- - -

Fernando was sitting at a table in the Ferrari motor home fiddling with his lunch. Dasha wasn’t there again but he wasn’t bothered about that, he was happy she was vacant. After their talk the night before he could barely look at her without feeling dreadfully guilty. He wanted to sort this thing with Mark but he couldn’t. He needed to know what he was going to do before he could consider sorting things out with Mark. And that was more of a challenge than ever. Just trying to work out what to do with himself. He didn’t need this right now. He put his fork down and rested his head in his hands, his appetite completely vanishing. 

The clink of a plate by his elbow made him look round. He frowned down at the red iced cupcake that was sitting on a plate. Initially, he couldn’t understand. Someone had placed a cupcake down next to him and then walked away. He looked around the room but everyone seemed too busy in what they were doing themselves to worry about him. 

“You looked like you needed a pick-me-up,” A familiar voice muttered in his ear. He turned to see Alice walking away from him with a pile of plates. Making the link, he looked between her and the cupcake. Such a small simple gesture, an act of kindness, but it was exactly what he needed to see; she was impartial and she knew about Mark and he. She was letting him know he could talk to her. He got up, collecting the cake as he did and moved over to her. She smiled as he came closer but it faded slightly at the intensity of his look. He was definitely troubled and that worried her. He held the cake out to her.

“Can I have a word?” He asked softly. She smiled and led him out of the back of the motor home; out of earshot of everyone else, not taking the cake from Fernando’s offering hand. Fernando took a deep breath. 

\- - -

Finally being able to talk out his problem with someone had picked up Fernando’s mood. And he had some idea of how he was going to handle this. Now he vaguely knew what he was going to do he needed to patch things up with Mark. It was Mark’s last weekend and Fernando wanted to get back to that, to making it about what Mark wanted. It was important. More important than ever now. He moved down the paddock with the red iced cupcake hidden in his pocket, where he held it, making sure it wasn’t crushed. 

\- - -

Mark frowned at it. It hadn’t been there in the first practise session and it hadn’t been there before lunch. But it was here now, sitting in his side of the garage on the front of his car. Why no one else had frowned at it in the way he was confused him. The little red cake looked so out of place surrounded by Red Bull purple. And Mark instantly knew where it had come from; who else would have a red cake at their disposal. As if it was a little secret of his, he scooped it up and held it gently, pushing it into his pocket so no one could see it. He crossed back through the garage and out the back, heading to the Ferrari motor home. 

After a few surveys of the area Mark concluded that Fernando was most probably inside debriefing with Andrea about the first practice session and decided the best protocol was to wait for him. He moved around the red building and down the alley created by the neighbouring building where he immerged out the back and saw her. She was trying to compose her breathing for some reason and Mark frowned as he moved towards her, Fernando being briefly pushed to the back of his mind. Alice didn’t even seem to register his presence, so when Mark placed a hand on her shoulder it made her jump. 

“Oh! Sorry,” Alice said, pushing herself off the wall she had been leaning on and wiping a finger under her eye. 

“It’s alright. I should really be the one apologising; this isn’t really my place,” Mark smiled. Alice still looked at the floor. “Are you OK?”

“Bit of a stupid question,” Alice said in a wavering, jokey, sarcastic tone. Mark could see she was on the verge of tears and didn’t quite know what to do. He didn’t really want to find himself dealing with a hysterical woman. He pulled the cake out of his pocket and offered it to her, but this didn’t work at all. Her eyes took in the little cake and her hands flew to her face as her body shook with uneven breaths. 

“Shit. I’m sorry; I thought that would help. Obviously you did, Mark, but you’re a bit of a twat and obviously you were wrong,” Mark rambled to himself as he put the cake back in his pocket and placed both of his hands on her shoulders. He looked at Alice for a moment before deciding that this wasn’t helping either. Why was this so much easier when it was Fernando he was trying to comfort? He felt like a wet towel on a cold day. Alice took a deep breath and uncovered her face. 

“No. It just me, I’m sorry. I just…” Alice was frantically rubbing at her face but the more she tried to stop the tears the faster they began to fall. And her nose began to run. Mark put his hand in the pocket without the cake and extracted a clean napkin. It was something Ann had always done and he had picked it up. Ann had always been prepared for any scenario. She even seemed to know before Mark that he was gay and pretty much talked him though their break-up. They were still close friends and he had always felt a little sad about the limited time they saw each other nowadays. But he had Fernando and his racing and she had her job and the kids. They always stayed in touch though. It had been weird that Mark still hadn’t told her about Fernando. He could probably talk to her very easily about his concerns and dreams and she would help him thorough or listen encouragingly. But Fernando hadn’t wanted to spread it and that was fair, Mark understood. He handed the napkin to Alice and she took it gratefully, trying to tidy herself up. 

“Do you mind if I ask what’s wrong?” Mark asked gently. Alice took a shaky breath. 

“It’s nothing really. I’m just being stupid,”

“We all have stupid thoughts,” Alice scoffed at his comment and he drew on the conversation Fernando and he had had very similar. “From time to time,” Mark pause but Alice still didn’t look at him. “How about you tell me yours and I’ll tell you one in return,” Mark said, placing his hand back on Alice’s shoulder. It dawned on him at this moment that Fernando still hadn’t fulfilled his side of the deal. He owned Mark one stupid thought. He turned his attention back to Alice who was looking at him with watery eyes. 

“You’ll laugh at me,” She said, looking down at her hands. 

“I promise I won’t,” Mark smiled. Alice looked back up at him. 

“Go first?”

“Ok. I used to think that just because the season was ending that would be the end of Fernando and I. But now I know that doesn’t matter because we will make it work,” Mark said softly, noting Alice’s eyes refilling with water. She exasperated a laugh as another tear over spilled onto her cheek. 

“That’s not stupid,”

“It is to me. It made me feel stupid when I said it out loud because it was so simple to fix,” Alice sighed and looked away from Mark. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Alice said and Mark smiled at her. 

“I’ll miss you too. I always knew the people in red were the nicest. Kind of wish I’d given the team a go,” Mark mused as he looked up at the red wall beside him.

“And I’m sorry,” Alice let out before she could stop herself. Mark frowned at her. 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry-”

“-Not personally. For you,” She said, twisting the corner of the napkin she had in her hands. Mark’s frown got deeper. She worked closely with Fernando and knew about them. Was something going on? Was that why she was sorry?

“What do you-?”

“-Mark?” They both looked up to see Fernando holding open the back door to the motor home, taking in the scene. Alice flushed red and pushed past Fernando, disappearing back inside the Ferrari motor home. Mark watched her go, still frowning. “What are you doing here?” Fernando asked, pulling Mark’s attention to the man in front of him. Mark gave him a little smile. 

“I got your note,” Mark said watching Fernando blush.

“What note?” Fernando tried to ask innocently, but the look in Mark’s eyes was too much. He swallowed as Mark produced the red cake. 

“I read it as ‘I’m ready to talk’,” Mark said, some seriousness coming back into his voice. 

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Fernando started, closing the door behind him and crossing to Mark. He held the Australian’s face with his hands. “I was confused and angry and upset and Jenson was hounding me and I needed to work something out,”

“It’s OK, Fer, I under-”

“-No. Is not OK. Because is your weekend and it is about what you want. So tell me what you want and I will give to you,” This wasn’t a sexual request; this was something much deeper. He was giving Mark the opportunity to ask anything and he would explain it. One hand fell on Fernando’s hip and the other pushed into his hair. His way too long hair. 

“Tell me you’re stupid thought,” Mark smirked as confusion filtered onto Fernando’s face. 

“Sorry?”

“When you came to mine you said that you would exchange my stupid thought for one of yours. I want you to pay up,” Mark said, resisting the temptation to catch Fernando’s lips with his own. Fernando blushed as his hands slid down to rest on Mark’s torso and he followed them with his eyes. 

“When I was younger I thought that if you wound a watch the wrong way you would go back in time,”

“Fernando,” Mark sighed, using the hand in Fernando’s hair to tilt his face up. “I’m being serious,”

“But you want a specific stupid thought?”

“What’s bothering you probably seems stupid to you but it won’t to me. I promise. I want to help you,”

“I just can’t imagine coming here… Alone,” Fernando muttered, not looking into Mark’s eyes.

“You won’t… Oh,” Mark abruptly understood. He felt a sudden need to bring Fernando closer. It was his leaving that was causing Fernando to act as he was. And that was more painful than anything Mark could have thought of. He pulled Fernando’s head into his chest and wrapped his arms around him tightly. Fernando’s arms snaked around Mark’s back forcing any gap between them to be filled. 

“I’m sorry,” Fernando said, voice muffled by Mark. 

“No, Fer. Don’t be. This is normal. This is fine. You’re allowed to feel like this, bub,” Mark said, placing a gentle kiss on Fernando’s forehead. Fernando tried to pull Mark closer but he already felt like he was drifting away. He pushed his head up so it was level with Mark’s and kissed him, trying to feel connected to his boyfriend in everyway he could. It was soft and tender and Mark caressed Fernando’s lips with his own. Fernando sucked gently on Mark’s lower lip before releasing his and slowly dropping back to him normal height. 

“Is why I have been acting weird,” Fernando sighed, looking away from Mark.

“It’s OK, I understand. I’m feeling the same in a way,” Mark rubbed small circles into Fernando’s back. “It will be weird not coming back,”

“I love you, Mark.” Mark sighed contently into Fernando’s hair. 

“I love you too, Fernando,” after a few minutes of just holding each other, Mark lent back, placing his smirk back on his face. It made Fernando feel dubious. 

“What?” Fernando said, looking at Mark with a raised eyebrow. 

“Thanks for the cake,” Mark said, extracting it from his pocket. It was still in one piece and not squashed. 

“The idea is that you eat it,” Fernando smiled, wrapping his arms back around Mark’s waist. Mark pulled the paper from around it. He screwed up the paper and placed it in his pocket, holding onto the cake at the bottom. He looked down at Fernando and smirked wider, pushing the cake towards him. Fernando opened his mouth to take a bite when Mark pulled it away and took a small bite himself. Fernando pouted. 

“Sorry, mate. You’re still on a strict F1 diet; no room for pleasantries,” Mark said, chewing happily on the spongy cake. The combination of the springing cake and the crystal-like icing was perfect. Hats off to the chef. 

“How about I have one bite and jog to the garage?” Fernando suggested. 

“Mmm… Will that ruin your training schedule? I don’t want it to unbalance you,”

“Don’t tease, Mark, or I won’t give you gifts again,” Mark smiled at Fernando and let him take a bite of the cake, finishing the rest of himself. “Is good,” Fernando commented. 

“Extremely… Just like someone I know actually, most of the time he wears red too,” Mark said, resting his forehead on Fernando’s.

“Really? Do I know him?”

“Maybe, he’s very stubborn,” Mark paused to run a hand through Fernando’s hair. “Great kisser,”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“You’ll have to introduce me sometime,” Fernando said, his voice revealing the distraction Mark was creating.

“You know of a thing called a mirror, right?” Mark said before kissing Fernando again. It was momentary, but the heart-felt love was still around and Mark cherished it. “I have to go now before Christian sends out a search team to find me,” Fernando pouted. 

“Don’t go,”

“I have to, mate, I’ve got no choice,” Mark said, and, giving Fernando a quick kiss, he disappeared through the alley he had arrived from. Fernando watched him go, feeling their last words to each other summed up Mark’s departure from Formula One as well. And that made it worse: the crushing guilt that was surrounding him again. Because he hated lying to Mark. 

\- - -

Fernando arrived in the garage and went straight for his leather chair at the back of the garage, crossing his legs up on it and sighing. He caught Andrea’s eye and frowned at the look he was giving him. His race engineer was looking at him like he was the luckiest man alive. Fernando opened his mouth to ask him what was the matter but Andrea’s eyes fell to the shelving beside him. Fernando turned to look and saw it, sitting on the shelf next to his mascots. A small screwed up cake wrapper. And Fernando smiled, picking it up. He would keep it, right where he found it. Even if only for this weekend it was Mark’s mascot to him. A reminder that is was OK to feel this way. 

He really was the luckiest man alive.

\- - - - -

One. 

Saturday was wet again. So much so, Fernando didn’t do any running in the morning; there was no point in wasting their wet weather tyres for qualy. So instead he found himself sitting on his chair, pacing or making excuses and going for a five-minute walk. The Ferrari team probably thought he had some sort of bladder problem but Andrea was keeping a close eye on him. He kept smiling over to him but it was as if Andrea knew it was fake. They had been working together for too long and Andrea understood him quite well now. He was sitting on his chair and watching Mark’s lap on the screen in his shelving when Andrea finally stopped trying to work him out and came over to talk to him. 

“Fernando,” Andrea said, leaning on the shelving so all Fernando had to do was flick his eyes to Andrea. He looked up at the Italian and smiled. “How are you?” Fernando’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and there was sadness in them.

“Am fine,” Fernando smiled. His eyes flicked back to the screen to see Mark go to the top of the timesheet, making him smile a little bit more. 

“You’ve been a little off all weekend,” Andrea commented, bringing Fernando’s attention back to him. 

“Is just an emotional time,” Fernando sighed. Andrea put a hand on his shoulder and left him sitting alone. It was odd but Andrea felt like he couldn’t do anything to help. He just had to let Fernando feel the way he was feeling. It was understandable; he was loosing both a teammate and his best friend in a day’s time so his actions were kind of expected. Fernando looked out the front of the garage to see the nose of Mark’s Red Bull and the mechanics pushing him back into the garage. He wanted more than anything to go through and talk to Mark but he couldn’t. Mark was feeling too far away already. 

\- - -

“Ok, Fernando, that’s P3. P3 for tomorrow,” Andrea said in his ear. Fernando was annoyed at himself; he had made a mistake going too wide in sector two. He had lost P2 because of that mistake and that was the most infuriating fact. 

“I’m sorry,” Fernando said back, feeling disappointed in himself. He was surprised when he heard Andrea laughing. “What?”

“I don’t think you ever need to say sorry to us again,” Fernando was still a little confused as he turned the last corner, pulling into the pits. “P3 is our best result since Bahrain,”

“But I made a mistake. It could have been P2,”

“Let’s not beat ourselves up about it. You’ve done a spectacular job. Lets try and convert it tomorrow,” Fernando pulled up into parc ferme and got himself out of the car. It had been so long since he had to do all of the post qualy stuff that he almost walked away from the FIA interview building. Much to the amusement of Nico and Seb. 

-

“Alright, Mark. Good last qualifying. Shame we couldn’t get the speed down to challenge for pole but good job,” Simon called to Mark over his radio. 

“It’s these tyres, I can’t get any heat into them,” Mark said. 

“We’ll hope for a dry race tomorrow then, P4 start tomorrow. Not bad, still second row,”

“Top ten?”

“P1, Seb. P2, Rosberg. P3, Alonso. P4, Yourself. P5-”

“-Fernando’s P3?”

“Yeah, seems that car works a lot better in the rain,”

“You could say that again,” Mark was happy for Fernando. Finally, he managed to give himself a fighting chance at challenging for the podium tomorrow. And even though Mark knew he would have to pass him to try for that elusive final win he relished in the fact he would be battling Fernando. Battling Fernando on track was always a special thing to be doing because it was never easy and if you gave him half a chance to regain position he wouldn’t hold back. So tomorrow was shaping up to be an exciting last race for Mark. He climbed out of his car and looked to Fernando’s Ferrari. Obviously it was empty; Fernando had been whisked away to post qualy interviews. Mark sighed happily as he walked away from the cars. Tomorrow was going to be excellent. 

\- - -

“You are coming for a drink, Mark!” Jenson was whining as Mark drove them both back to the hotel. Fernando had taken Dasha back to the hotel and Jenson had cornered Mark. 

“There is a reason I’m leaving shortly after the race tomorrow, mate,” Mark said, keeping his eyes on the road. “And we all have to drive tomorrow. I’m not sure Christian or Martin or any of them would be very happy if we turned up pissed,”

“I’m sure Kimi does it all the time,” Jenson pouted. 

“But I’m not Kimi and I don’t want a big fuss,”

“But it’s a big thing, Mark!” Mark didn’t answer Jenson and kept his eyes forwards. “Fine! We won’t drink. Just at least come so the other driver’s can say goodbye. They all want to,” Jenson huffed. 

“All the other driver’s?”

“Yes, Mark. You can’t just let Fernando do the honours for us all,” Mark shot Jenson a dark look and the Brit smirked. 

“Am I going to get you to leave me alone if I say yes?” Mark sighed, feeling that continuing to argue was pointless. 

“I can’t promise anything,” Jenson smiled. Jenson hadn’t been happy after putting his car in fourteenth for the race. Mark had known for a few weeks now that Jenson couldn’t wait for the season to end and Mark was only really agreeing because of how happy it made Jenson. They entered the pub that was just around the corner from the hotel when Jenson lent close to Mark’s ear and whispered, “It was supposed to be no partners but obviously you’re an exception.” Mark smiled to Jenson as his eyes found Fernando sitting at the bar by himself. He was looking at the floor unhappily with a troubled expression. Mark began to make a beeline for him but Lewis and Nico caught him into a conversation and he reluctantly moved away from Fernando. Jenson moved straight over to Fernando, though. Mark had explained some things to Jenson after his outburst at Fernando and he felt a little bad. He took a seat next to the Spaniard but Fernando didn’t look up. 

“You could pick your face off the floor, mate,” Jenson joked but it failed. He scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. Maybe it was going to be easier to apologise is Fernando wasn’t paying attention. He still didn’t like what Fernando was doing, but at least now it made sense. “Look, I just came over to apologise for yesterday. You were right, I didn’t understand but I do now and I know I was a little harsh. So I’m sorry,” Fernando looked up at Jenson and saw the genuine form of his words. He picked up his glass of coke and raised it to his lips. 

“Thank you. I think I owe you an apology to,” Fernando said, not yet drinking from his glass but holding it up.

“It’s alright. Water under the bridge,” Jenson smiled.

“Good.” Fernando paused to take a drink. “But you still don’t like what I’m doing?” Fernando said, placing his glass down. Jenson went to object but there was no point. He sighed. 

“No. I don’t. But I know why you have to do it and so I will have to deal with it,” Fernando considered Jenson for a moment as the Brit ordered himself a drink. 

“Think I preferred it when you yelled at me,” Fernando mused, confusing Jenson. 

“What?”

“You were right, I hate what I’m doing. I preferred it when you called me on it,”

“Why?”

“Made me know I was wrong. This isn’t right,”

“I don’t think I understand you,” Jenson said, paying the bartender and gulping down his beer, still frowning. One beer wouldn’t hurt. 

“What I’m doing. I am hurting him and that’s not fair. So I need to stop,” panic shot through Jenson and he turned to Fernando. 

“Stop what?” He had the worst fear that Fernando was going to break it off with Mark. No, Fernando said he loved Mark and not Dasha. Fernando was going to break it off with Dasha? Jenson was panicking. 

“Hurting him,” Fernando said calmly. Jenson thought not to push it; he was panicking unnecessarily. Jenson clapped Fernando on the shoulder and left him sitting alone. They were going to be fine. Jenson felt a little proud that he had been the one to make Fernando see what he really had to do. With a small smile on his face he disappeared into the crowd. 

When Mark finally got out of a conversation about foreign weather and over to the bar there was no one there. Mark frowned at the seat that he was sure he had seen Fernando sitting at and moved towards it. He hadn’t been gone long; his empty glass still sat on the bar. Giving the room a quick scan he assumed Fernando had left and headed towards the door. Standing in the cold he looked down the road and saw the retreating figure of his boyfriend. Even from here he could see how downbeat Fernando looked. He made to head to him when someone grabbed his arm and dragged him back into the pub. He wanted to scream at Romain but he couldn’t. Because Fernando and he were still a secret. He caught Jenson’s eye as he was dragged back into the crowd and they started singing waltzing Matilda and both the Brit and he shared the same look. They were both worried about Fernando. 

\- - - - -

Zero. 

Mark woke up and stared at the ceiling. It felt just like any other day. Just a normal Sunday morning. Just a normal race weekend. He just looked up for a while, taking it all in; the morning had a strange inevitability to it. He decided to take it one moment at a time, slowing going through the motions. Because there really wasn’t much left of his Formula One career and he wanted to take it all in. He slowly climbed out of bed and moved into the bathroom.

This was going to be an emotional day. 

\- - -

One step at a time. That’s what he kept telling himself. You’re going to put your race suit on now, Mark. You’re going to pull on you’re boots now, Mark. You’re going to go to the garage now, Mark. It was his last instruction that rendered him motionless in his routine. Of course they weren’t just going to let him go without some kind of send off. He had been at the team for seven years, come in at the very beginning. They were not going to just let him slide out the back with a wave and a ‘cheerio’. He should have known; he wasn’t normally called to the garage half an hour early. 

So when he headed for his chair at the back of the garage and saw the Australian flag hanging proudly over his car he shouldn’t have been surprised. But he was because he really wasn’t expecting it. He moved through the crowd that had huddled round to get a closer look at it and saw the pit board reading “Thank you, Mark” and before he really had chance to take any of it in waltzing Matilda began blaring round the garage. He couldn’t help but laugh at them all. 

All the effort they had gone to was wonderful. And for what seemed like a very long time he felt like he was part of this team again. A huge, key part. And he felt like number one in the team. Like he was the one they were fighting for. And he knew that come race time the table would be back to normal and the team would most probably back Seb, but for this moment he was relishing in the attention. He caught the corner of the Australian flag and turned it to face him. Soaking it all in. 

\- - -

Fernando was trying to avoid everyone. Especially Dasha, but he didn’t really want to speak to anyone. It was suddenly here and he didn’t feel like doing anything. He wanted to hold Mark and never let go. But he was avoiding him too. Because he was avoiding everyone that was going to break through the shield he had in place. And Mark was definitely one of those people. He was standing along the pit wall with his glasses on, hoping no one would want to come and interview him. He hated the fact that the press were allowed on the grid mere minutes before the race. He found it harder to get into the zone. 

He was drinking from his bottle and frowning because he felt he had missed his window. He had had since the British Grand Prix to persuade Mark to not retire, to go back on his statement and just stay in the sport another year. Mark was still good, could still have happily got a seat next year. Fernando felt he had let Mark slide through his fingers and the mere thought of that alone made him feel guilty. Not to mention everything else that was swimming through his head. But he needed to focus on his race now and not everyone else around him. They still had a small chance to come second in the constructors and that was the boost the team really needed. He just had to get through the first corner cleanly. 

He walked out into the middle of the grid and forwards, positioning himself between the Red Bull and the Mercedes on the front row. So many ways he could try and tackle the short run to the first corner. Try down the middle, between the two and hope he got a flying start to propel himself into the lead, or he could go around the outside of Seb, using the perfect clutch in his Ferrari to jump him, try and build a gap. A gentle hand on his shoulder let him know it was time to get in his car. He sighed and turned his back to the track he would soon be racing on. 

As he was pushing through the swarm of people, trying to get back to his car, he saw Mark. Standing just off Simon’s shoulder and looking at his Red Bull. For once, Fernando couldn’t read the emotion on Mark’s face. He didn’t like it. Mark felt too far away as it was and now Fernando felt he was being shut out. And he knew what he had to do. He crossed through more people and confused the Ferrari man who was trying to get him back to his car. Mark looked up at him just as he emerged through the crowd but there wasn’t enough time between recognition and having Fernando’s arms tightly round him to break into his normal smile. Fernando kept his lips close to Mark’s ear.

“Have a fantastic race today. You deserve it and all of the glory. You have had an amazing career in this sport and I can’t wait to see your new successes in years to come,”

“And share them with me, share in our glory,” Mark smiled as he muttered back. Fernando’s left hand held onto Mark’s shoulder to keep him at the right height and balanced on his tiptoes. 

“I love you, Mark. Never forget that,” Fernando finished and as much as he wanted to plant a kiss on Mark’s cheek, neck or lips he didn’t. He couldn’t. Instead he fell back to his normal height, giving Mark a smile and pushing back through the crowd. The press began to clear as Fernando exchanged his cap for his helmet and climbed into the cockpit of his F138 for the last time. He left his visor up as he breathed deeply, going through his normal pre-race routine in his head. He took a quick glance to his left and wished he hadn’t. He could see Mark, sitting with his visor still up, just staring at his gloves. Fernando wanted so badly to climb out of his Ferrari and go to Mark, talk him thorough it, give him supporting words and tell him everything was going to be fine. He watched him until finally, Mark pulled on his gloves. Fernando sighed as he turned forwards, pulling on his own and pushing down his visor. 

“Ok, Fernando. Get a practice start on the formation and warm up your tyres,” Andrea said in Fernando’s ears. He saw the Red Bull in front of him begin to move and his poised his fingers. For the final time in 2013, he thought, Let’s do this.

\- - -

The race had been good. It was a shame Felipe had got a drive through because that had been the moment Fernando had known they were not going to recover second place in the constructors. He had already decided that if Felipe was still running in forth at the end of the race he would hold back a little and let Felipe take the podium for the team in his last race at Ferrari. But that had all changed after his grid penalty. Fernando’s raced had changed to being focused on himself. But the Red Bulls were still fast and he was happy to finish the season on the podium. And it was so special because he was sharing Mark’s last podium with him. That was what he was smiling about. 

He walked around the back of the podium to the cool down area to find Seb and Christian already there. From the cover of his helmet Fernando rolled his eyes and moved over to the table. He pulled his helmet off for the last time of 2013 and put it on the table, resting his hand gently on the top momentarily. It had been a hard year but it was over now. He picked up a water bottle and began to down it, not realising how thirsty he had been until the water brushed his lips. 

“That was a tough race,” Seb said, a smile still plastered on his face. Fernando didn’t want to listen to him and his attention was down the paddock, watching for Mark to appear. “We all went into that race blind, it was difficult to understand,”

“Yes, but this didn’t last long, no? Back to usual pretty fast,” Fernando joked and Seb smiled. Though there was a tinge of annoyance to his voice. It wasn’t very clear and obviously Sebastian and Christian didn’t pick up on it. “What happened in your last pit stop?” Fernando asked, tilting the bottle back to his mouth and finishing it off as Sebastian answered. 

“My tyres were graining badly and we were trying to hold out just in case there was rain. But it got too much and I had to come in because I was scared they would blow out. So I came in but I didn’t know they had called Mark in for that lap so they had to get my tyres and then put them on so I was stationary for about thirteen seconds. Mark and you both came in and because of this I luckily managed to hold the lead,” Seb smiled, laughing at Red Bull’s mistake. 

Fernando moved away from Christian and Seb and left them discussing something. He was now waiting for Mark who was yet to arrive. He lent on the post that was supporting one corner of the gazebo they were standing under and looked down the paddock, still waiting. He couldn’t work out what was holding Mark up. It seemed like an age since they had driven into parc ferme side by side. He had been smiling, glowing over to Mark but Mark couldn’t see because Fernando had his helmet on. He considered, momentarily about copying his boyfriend and removing his own but it was Mark’s moment. When he had fist seen Mark had no helmet on he had to take a double take, confused as to why he looked so small in the cockpit. He had laughed though; it was a very Mark-like thing to do. 

That very same smile cracked onto his face as the Australian moved towards them. He had got rid of his helmet already and his eyes were only for Fernando. Totally ignoring his ex-team principle and his ex-teammate he moved straight for the Spaniard who pulled him in for a hug. He was so happy he could share his last podium with Fernando; everything just felt perfect. But now wasn’t the time for being gushy in love and head over heels happy for each other. That would wait until they got back to the hotel. Fernando’s arm lingered around Mark’s waist for a little longer than Mark had expected and when Fernando gave him a little squeeze of encouragement he knew it was all going to be fine. 

“Shall we go?” Fernando said, walking forwards and leaving the three Red Bull men standing under the gazebo. It took him a moment to realise they weren’t following him and he headed back, feeling a little foolish. Mark smiled at him and clapped him on the shoulder, feeling that arm snake around him briefly once more. They moved through to the podium. It was emotional up there, looking down over all of the Brazilian fans. But Mark was taking Fernando’s word: he was making it all about him. He noticed that when he raised his trophy above his head the crowd was louder than for anyone else, making him feel like he had won. 

The champagne came out and he headed straight for Fernando. Fernando tried to back away from him but Mark was persistent. He pretty much ran Fernando off the podium to his own laughs before he turned and headed to spray the Brazilian crowd. Though where he had been continually spraying Fernando the podium beneath his feet was slippery and he spectacularly stacked it, falling down onto the sodden ground beneath him, his limbs splaying and his champagne spilling onto the floor. He practically sprung back up again though; laughing and trying to get the spray back to send it out to Brazil. Fernando got his own back and hit Mark in the side of the face. The Australian turned and let the champagne fill his mouth, loving the feeling of elation he was being washed with. 

The interviews whirled by and before he knew it, it was all over. His Formula One career had finished and he wasn’t sure what was waiting for him on the horizon. But that just made everything so much more special. He was ready to start the next chapter. 

\- - -

Mark seemed to be back at the hotel before he knew it. He had had a brief de-briefing with the team and thanked them all for their hard work over the years. They had all wished each other luck for the future and, after holding his final press interviews, he departed into the Red Bull motor home for the last time to change out of his purple race suit. Once he was dressed he held the sodden, champagne soaked material in his hands and looked down on it with nostalgia. He had seen a lot change over his years in Formula One and it still felt right to be leaving. A big rule change and new rookies coming into the paddock were the things he was leaving behind. 

“We didn’t have a bad run, did we,” Mark sighed contently to his race suit before, for the final time, he left it in his old cool down room and left, giving the little room a once over before disappearing out of the door forever. His walk to the car seemed slow. It wasn’t the last time he would come to this amazing circuit but it was his last time as a Formula One driver. A driver in the pinnacle division of motor sport. He took a deep breath, taking it all in one last time before he headed for his car. He had four hours before he needed to be on a flight, which gave him plenty of time with Fernando. To finish the season with the only person he really wanted to be with right now. He was expecting to have a full run of emotions tonight and didn’t want to share that with anyone but Fernando. After his departure from the podium the Spaniard had disappeared into the sea of people that all wanted to speak to Mark. Speak to the Formula One driver one last time. As he climbed into his car it hit him. 

That was it. It was all over. He was not longer a Formula One driver. 

His phone buzzed and he extracted it from his pocket taking in Fernando’s name as it flashed up on his screen. His unlocked the phone and read the text message his boyfriend had sent. 

Really sorry, I’m caught in debrief – a lot to talk about for next year. I will be there as soon as I can xxx

Mark sighed but he understood. He started up the car and drove away, looking back in his wing mirror to see the paddock, still alight with activity as some teams celebrated but others just tried to pack away with heavy hearts and shoulders weightless with relief. Looking at the buzz he was a part of as a driver for a final time. It didn’t take Mark as long as he thought it would to get to the hotel and he walked easily through the lobby. Until he heard his name. 

“Mr Webber?” The Brazilian woman behind the desk called. Mark turned and smiled at her.

“That’s me,” Mark said, walking up to her desk. She was flipping through a little file system under her desk and Mark tried to peer over the top to see what she was doing. Before he got a chance she straightened up and Mark fell back on his heels, smiling brightly. 

“A message for you, Sir,” The woman said, holding out a small, red, envelope. Mark took it and thanked her, heading for the lift. He frowned at the small, red message he had in his hand and waited until the doors were fully closed and he was heading up to floor five before tearing open the envelope and extracting the red card from within. The message was printed, but he knew whom it was from anyway. 

Sorry I lied x 

Mark was a little confused initially because he wasn’t sure what Fernando could have lied to him about. His head was scanning through all of their conversations over the past few days as he approached his door. He hardly noticed that the door was ajar and he didn’t need his key to let himself in. It all made sense when his eyes took in the room. Falling to the man smiling sadly from his position sitting in the middle of the bed. And Mark understood. Fernando was apologising for sending a lie in his text. Because he wanted this to be a surprise. Mark closed the door behind him, sliding the lock in place and turning the do not disturb sign on the outside of the door before dropping his stuff and moving towards Fernando on the bed. 

They were ending things how they started.


	22. Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don't be dismayed by good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends.” ~Richard Bach~

Mark noted that Fernando had his famous purple/blue pyjama bottoms on as the Spaniard sat up onto his knees. He approached with his hands finding Fernando’s face. Fernando sighed deeply, closing his eyes at Mark’s touch. He knew he was doing the right thing. This was how he wanted it to happen. But he had to know Mark understood. He opened his eyes and looked up at Mark.

“You don’t have to be sorry, mate. I understand,” Mark said, resting his forehead on Fernando’s. Fernando wrapped both of his hands around Mark’s waist and pulled him closer, fearing the moment he would have to let go. 

“But I-”

“-Shh. Just… Let’s be us, yeah?” Mark said, closing his eyes. It had all become too clear to Mark that everything was about to change and before he got on his plane in a few hours time and spiralled into the unknown he just wanted a few hours of what he knew. What he needed: a few hours of normal. 

Fernando gave up trying to explain; if Mark hadn’t understood he was have asked him to explain. And Fernando was grateful of that: not having to explain. It made it easier to forget. It made it easier to just pretend everything was still normal. He nodded to Mark and lifted his head, looking into the Australian’s eyes. Mark let his hands slide down to Fernando’s slim waist and felt the shiver of anticipation from his boyfriend through his touch. He smiled. 

“This is all too similar,” Mark joked. “Almost just how I found you in Korea,”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t have let you do this in Korea,” Fernando commented as he moved one of his hands to the back of Mark’s head and pulled him into a kiss. Mark was so accustomed to the feel of Fernando’s lips that it startled him a little and the need behind Fernando’s kiss. Almost desperate, but not as obvious as that. Fernando’s second hand dragged slowly up Mark’s body, coming to a rest at his shoulder. Mark pulled softly on Fernando’s hips and closed the remaining space between them. He sucked on Fernando’s bottom lip before the Spaniard recoiled and, sitting back on his heels, rested his head on Mark’s torso and wrapping his arms around his waist. 

“I will miss you,” Fernando said, constantly trying to get closer to Mark. Mark was bewildered by Fernando’s actions; they were so uncharacteristic. Mark gently began to stroke Fernando’s hair, wanting more than anything to pull his boyfriend back up to face him but knowing that wouldn’t help at this moment. Fernando was trying to stay as close to him as possible. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mark said firmly. It would explain Fernando’s actions if he was worried that the end of the season would change things between them. Mark had to admit that it was definitely going to be different, but a good different. 

“I will miss this,” Fernando muttered, tightening his grip on Mark. It was as if Fernando was a small child that had been told he had to go to school but was clinging to his parent in fear. Mark didn’t know what to do. Fernando was stating that he was going to miss what they had on race weekends? That had to be it. Mark pried Fernando’s hands from around his waist and held them tightly in his own. Fernando looked up at him with sad eyes and didn’t drop his gaze from Mark as the Australian crouched to Fernando’s level. He kissed each of Fernando’s fingers independently, feeling each apprehensive digit relax under the pressure of his lips. Mark couldn’t find any consoling words because he didn’t know where to start. He was worried to that things would change between them, but that was going to be a good thing. So Mark wasn’t so much worried, more nervous. But in a good way. 

“Talk to me,” Fernando asked, pulling Mark’s attention from his fingers. Mark let go of Fernando’s hands and they flew to Mark’s face, constantly in contact. Fernando left his left hand cupping Mark’s face, but his right had begun to trace the lines of his face. He watched his right hand with intrigue, as if what he had found was new to him. Mark closed his eyes. 

“What would you like me to say?” Mark said, feeling Fernando’s finger stammer temporarily. The fingers slid into his hair and before Mark could understand what had happened he felt Fernando’s foot brush his knee. He opened his eyes to see the man he loved sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs hanging off, looking intently at his face. Both of Fernando’s hands had pushed their way into his hair and Mark sat up on his knees, resting his hands on Fernando’s thighs. 

“How was your day?” Fernando smiled. Mark frowned at him momentarily before a smile cracked onto his face. Fernando had returned to his normal self in a blink of an eye and there was nothing but love shinning from his eyes. 

“Not too bad,” Mark smiled, leaning closer to Fernando, trying to get back to their kiss. The Spaniard lent back and Mark found himself lying above his boyfriend, smiling down into his beaming face. 

“No, Mark. Not until you talk about your day,” Fernando smiled, though a sense of sadness had returned to his eyes. Fernando’s hands fell to Mark’s hips as the Australian lowered himself closer to him, making sure to keep his weight off his partner. Fernando was increasingly finding it difficult to concentrate on the question he was asking. 

“I do have to get a plane in a few hours,” Mark commented, trying again to capture Fernando’s lips. 

“Is long enough for you to tell me about your day,” Fernando teased, pushing Mark backwards. He linked one hand with Mark’s as they settled on the bed, sitting crossed legged in front of each other. Mark linked his second hand with Fernando’s and looked at them as he talked. 

“It was odd.” Mark started, frowning slightly. Fernando was watching his face. 

“Just odd?”

“It’s been a mix of emotions all day, mate.” Mark sighed. “When I woke up it was normal. It could have been any other Sunday over the past twelve years and I wouldn’t have known. But as I woke up more and started to get ready it became clearer and clearer that this was it…” Mark’s voice caught in his throat.

“Best moment of the day?” Fernando encouraged, soothingly circling his thumb on the back of Mark’s hand.

“Podium. No one else I wanted to share my last one with,” Mark smiled up at Fernando who returned his expression. 

“I didn’t know Sebastian was that special to you,” Fernando joked. 

“He got in the way a bit. I was trying to look past him,” There was a small silence where they both just looked at each other, accepting how lucky they were to have each other. Fernando broke it. 

“Worst moment?” 

“First pit stop when the wheel nut got stuck.” Mark said, shaking his head slightly. “I should have known something was going to prevent me getting anywhere near him,”

“They were too afraid you would try and get revenge for Malaysia I reckon; take both of you out,”

“Never in my last race. I wanted to finish it,” Mark said and Fernando smiled. 

“Most surprising moment?”

“Finding a little red cake sitting on my car,”

“This did not happen today,”

“Still the most surprising thing to happen in a long time,” Mark smiled and Fernando blushed, looking down at their interlocked hands. 

“I amend. Most surprising today?”

“Probably going into the garage and seeing all the Australian stuff,”

“You were not expecting this?”

“When you’ve been a clear number two for a while you don’t tend to expect special treatment,”

“You’ve been in the team from near the beginning,”

“Yeah, but when your told to move aside for three years in a row its hard to remember they might care,” Fernando paused before taking a deep breath and asking his next question. 

“The hardest moment?” Mark didn’t even have to think about the answer. 

“Getting in the car for the last time,” Fernando blinked, confused. 

“Really?”

“Everything else was normal: formation lap, start, pit stops. Everything else I was just in that mind set, you know,” Fernando nodded. “I wasn’t really thinking this is my last race, this is my last pit stop, this is my last podium. But getting in the car, it was all too real. I was there and it was the last time I was getting in the car, getting ready to race. It was emotional. I can’t really explain it.”

“I understand,” Fernando smiled. Mark shook his head at him, laughing slightly. 

“You don’t. You won’t until it’s your last race. And you’ll probably react differently to me.” Mark shrugged. “I don’t know, it might be your last lap that gets you,”

“No. I understand. I saw you in your car. I could see you sad,” Fernando sighed, looking down at their hands. “I was relieved when you put your gloves on; I was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you, I didn’t know you could see, bub,” Fernando shrugged. 

“Is no matter,” the Spaniard smiled. 

“And emotional, not sad,” Mark corrected. Fernando kept his eyes on their hands. 

“I wanted to come over,” he said in a quiet voice. 

“That probably wouldn’t have helped,” Mark replied, watching Fernando’s face. He seemed to be trying to say something but not find the words. 

“I wanted to support you,” For the last time.  Fernando muttered. Mark caught his face but Fernando didn’t look up. He felt silly, like at any moment Mark would start taking the piss at his stupidity. Fernando didn’t want to see that in Mark’s eyes. 

“And what would you have said?” Mark asked in a caring tone. Fernando just shrugged feeling constantly more stupid. 

“What I said before the race.” Mark selfishly wanted to hear his words again. 

“Which was?” The Australian continued in the same tone. When Fernando suddenly looked up at him, he wasn’t ready to see the tear rolling silently down his cheek. 

“That I am so proud of you. In everything you have done and everything you are going to. I will always look up to you because of your strength and your persistence. Even when everyone is yelling no at you, you continue to venture on and I love that about you, I wish I could do it myself. What you have achieved is some much more than the likes of Sebastian or even myself. Because what you have is something much better. So much better. You have everyone’s respect and no one doubts you. Not even for a moment. I love you; Mark, and I will always love you. Never forget that,” Mark saw the return of the Fernando from earlier: the one who couldn’t let go. A strange feeling of being in the dark about something crept up the Australian’s back and he couldn’t seem to shake it. Fernando’s wonderful speech, declaration of love and unexplainable solitary tear did not add up to something he understood. But he welcomed Fernando when the Spaniard pressed his lips against his own and he let himself fall back onto the bed bringing Fernando down on top of him. Because right now wasn’t about any worry or any unexplainable actions. It was about them being them. And that seemed extremely important to Fernando. 

Mark pushed his tongue into Fernando’s mouth softly, taking in the way he tasted and the way his body moved against Mark’s and the new sensation. Fernando’s hands brushed sensitively across Mark’s body until one rested on his torso, gliding underneath his shirt, and the other entwined into his hair. Mark’s own hands were exploring the naked flesh of Fernando’s back, feeling each vertebra and sensing the soothing effect it had on the Spaniard. This gentle exploration continued for a while. Each of them wanting to take in as much of the other as they could, but each for totally different reasons. Mark was trying to finally get inside Fernando’s head, work out what he was thinking. Trying to lay him out in such a way that he could open his boyfriend and study the intricate way his mind worked; to understand him completely. Fernando was just trying to cling on for dear life. 

Mark moved them forwards. In the same intimate, explorative way he slid his fingertips just below the waistband on Fernando’s pyjama bottoms. Fernando wanted to suck on the delicate skin on the side of Mark’s neck, to evoke that breath-taking hum of pleasure from the man he lay on top of. But he couldn’t bring himself to break apart from the Australian; he just felt himself pushing closer. Fernando slid the hand that was on Mark’s torso upwards, still under his shirt. He felt like he was stumbling in the dark as he brushed his fingers over Mark’s skin. Mark’s beautiful hum quivered in their mouths as Fernando’s hand stumbled on Mark’s nipple. Fernando couldn’t help but smile against the Australian’s lips. 

“We’re playing that game, are we?” Mark cooed, breaking their kiss. Fernando looked down at him innocently. 

“What game?” Fernando’s false innocence seemed to push the Australian on with his tender exploration of Fernando’s body. He rested his hands on Fernando’s hips as he sat himself up. Fernando swung his legs round so they were wrapped around Mark’s body. Mark lent forwards to kiss him but Fernando lent back pouting. “Is not fair,”

“What’s not, bub?” Mark said, brushing the hair from Fernando’s face and behind his ear, leaving his hand to wrap in his curls. Fernando pointed between his own bare chest and Mark’s t-shirt covered one. 

“This.” 

“Do what you want, mate,” Mark smiled, knowing Fernando probably wanted some kind of show of him taking his shirt off. Fernando pouted again.

“Please?” Fernando let his finger run back over Mark’s hard nipple and watched the pleasure roll across Mark’s face as the Australian’s eyes fell shut. “I ask in Spanish?”

“I might not be able to understand you,” Mark tried to joke but Fernando was not relenting. Fernando lent forwards so his lips were at Mark’s ear. 

“Por favor?” He purred, placing a lingering kiss on Mark’s neck. Mark tried to hold back his content hum that was climbing up his throat. “Por favor, mi amor. Por favor?” Fernando punctuated his words with more kissed and Mark completely forgot what Fernando was asking. Fernando placed soft, slow lingering kisses down Mark’s neck, putting a small amount of pressure on his Adam’s apple and evoking another hum that made him tingle in anticipation. Fernando lent back and waited for Mark to open his eyes. 

“You stopped?” Mark said, slowly. 

“Am waiting.”

“I though this weekend was about me,”

“Is.” Mark looked at Fernando not understanding. Fernando withdrew his hands from under Mark’s shirt and wrapped them around Mark’s neck. “What would you like to do?” Mark’s mind began spinning. Already hot from Fernando’s teasing he couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought. Fernando moved his hands down to Mark’s shoulders and stared rubbing at the pressure points. Mark moved his hands to support the base of Fernando’s back. Too many fragmented ideas were screaming to mind, but Fernando’s reassuring hand movements kept him from floating away. He looked into Fernando’s eyes, desperately wanting to know what was on his mind; even though Fernando was making it about him he didn’t what he wanted. He slid his fingers just below the waistband on Fernando’s trousers again. 

“Whatever you want,” Mark said, placing a chaste kiss on Fernando’s cheek. Fernando’s hands slid down the collar of Mark’s shirt and onto his back. 

”Not the point, Ma-”

“-Surprise me,” Mark hummed in Fernando’s ear. Fernando took a hold of Mark’s collar and pulled it upwards, breaking the Australian’s hold on him briefly as the Red Bull shirt was pulled free of Mark’s skin. Fernando’s fingers began tracing again; tracing the sharp, defined muscles that bumped across his navel. Mark laid back on the bed with Fernando still sitting on him. Fernando let his hands explore in a way Mark had never felt possible. It was delicate, but just so that it left Mark begging internally for more. Fernando returned to his soft, lingering kisses travelling down Mark’s body. Mark felt so at peace with everything that he never wanted to move or let Fernando leave ever again. He felt as if the tables had turned; now it was Fernando who was opening Mark to read him. Taking each individual aspect of what made Mark who he was and scrutinizing it under a microscope. But Mark welcomed it, welcomed the feeling; it embedded Fernando in his skin and he would never be able to wash him away. It was permanent, like a tattoo. As Fernando moved his lips to Mark’s navel, the Australian caught his shoulder. Fernando looked up at him. 

“No,” Mark said, releasing his grip and laying his palm on Fernando’s back. Fernando frowned, pulling himself up Mark’s body so they were face to face. 

“No?” Fernando asked, a tint of sadness to his question. 

“I want you here,” Mark said, indicating to the position they were in now. Fernando smiled in relief and caught Mark’s lips with his own. Mark’s hands travelled slowly down Fernando’s back and just under his waistband. He put a small amount of pressure on his lower back and pressed Fernando into him, feeling the strain of material between his legs. Mark had barely touched Fernando and was amazing by how he could affect his boyfriend without even doing anything. Fernando hissed quietly at the moment of contact. He tried to hide how much he wanted Mark to do it again, but he was fairly unsuccessful. Mark brought them together again with a gentle push of his hand.

“Mark…” Fernando sighed, releasing their kiss. Mark pushed himself up into a sitting position and pushed Fernando up with him, taking his lips again. His hands remained under Fernando’s waistband and from their position he began to shed the Spaniard of the only clothes he remained to be wearing. It was awkward from the entwined position their bodies were in though. Mark found that Fernando’s trousers got stuck around his knees and they had to cumbersomely shimmy to free the tangled material. With relief, Mark threw them across the room and cupped Fernando’s face with his hands, returning to tenderly kissing his boyfriend. With Mark being below Fernando, it was easier to rid Mark of his clothes. Fernando hooked his thumbs in the waistband of both his jeans and boxers and pushed them down, letting Mark toe his way out of them and kick them off the bed. 

Mark pulled Fernando closer to him and forced their kiss to become deeper, but the same intimate slowness of the movement remained. As their erect cocks accidently brushed both men moaned into each other’s mouths. Their hands were tangled in each other: twisted in each other’s hair, wrapped around the others body, gently caressing the other’s exposed skin, but nowhere near each others throbbing manhood. The accidental touches were beginning to become too much and Fernando felt himself begin to loose his mind. His hand slipped from Mark’s back slowly, resting on the Australian’s thigh. 

“Fer…” Mark cooed, placing his hand on top of Fernando’s. Fernando knew what he wanted to do but he didn’t know if he would have the strength to continue. There was too much already. 

“I don’t…” He started, but as he began to speak Mark moved to pull him closer and they brushed again, causing friction to rush through their bodies and Fernando’s back to arch slightly. 

“Mmm here,” Mark muttered, releasing Fernando’s hand. The Spaniard moved it slowly, dragging fingertips along Mark’s thigh. Mark tried to remain focused but each lingering touch made it so much harder. He tried to not move, let Fernando get there in his own time. It was difficult; fighting every urge in his body. Fernando paused before he took hold of Mark. The soft feel of Fernando’s palm almost pushed him over the edge. He lent forwards and rested his forehead on Fernando’s.

“You…?” He panted, focusing all his efforts on producing that one word and not tumbling into the abyss of pleasure. Fernando seemed to be struggling with words as well. 

“I can’t…” Mark instinctively wrapped one hand around Fernando’s, catching the Spaniard’s cock as well. Fernando let his head fall back at the touch of Mark’s hand, but the Australian used his free hand to catch him before he fell backwards and pulled Fernando to rest his forehead against his own. 

“Stay with me…” Mark said in a just audible whisper. Fernando kissed him and Mark slowly moved his hand. Fernando was so overwhelmed by the feeling he could only just programme his free hand to wrap around Mark’s neck and pull him closer to the Australian, staying with him. Mark let the hand that was holding Fernando up fall behind him to support them in their sitting position. 

Mark lead the slow movement at first, guiding Fernando’s hand and muting his cries of pleasure with his kiss and his own moans. Each vibration of sound in their mouth sent new waves of pleasure through them and each of them slowly began to understand what they were doing. They were helping each other. Holding on to what they had had for the end of the season and displaying it to each other. The way Mark guided Fernando helped him to understand what he wanted to do, how he wanted to inflict what Mark was making him feel on the Australian himself. And the realisation that they were not fighting for power or just being in love, but were making the other exist was heart-meltingly glorious and horrifically heart-breaking at the same time. They completed each other, made the other whole, filled all of those spaces that they could never believed needed or could be filled. 

As this realisation began to sink in, Fernando began to work in opposition to Mark. The movement of their hands flowing in contrasting directions was unimaginable. The two moments of friction that were being generated sparked off a pleasure neither of them believed was true. Fernando felt the tightening in his navel and he knew he was close. So very close. He somehow managed to open his eyes to take in Mark beautiful, lust-filled face. And he knew he was close to. And it felt so right to tie this up together: completing each other. 

“Ma… I…” Fernando tired, but no words were forming now. He wanted to say them. Needed to say them. It was too important. Mark needed to hear them. 

“Fer… Fu… Clo…” Mark’s unhinged state was clear, but it was still important he knew. He always had to remember; the statement would never change. Whatever the circumstance. 

“Mark… I lo… Please… Love…” And then it was too late. Because he felt the release rush from his navel to his balls and down his throbbing member. And the relief and ecstasy that washed through him was tinted blue. He didn’t say it. He couldn’t say it. Not at the one time it was so important. Mark came at the same time, his hand that was supporting them giving way and letting them fall together back onto the bed. Mark let the now free hand push into Fernando’s hair and he pulled the Spaniard closer to him, tasting the pleasure in his mouth. They both lay still on each other, trying to catch their breath. Fernando rested his head in the curve of Mark’s shoulder and closed his eyes, breathing in his boyfriend. When Mark’s breathing had regulated, he lent over to his bedside table and opened the drawer, cautious not to let Fernando see the contents, and pulled out a pack of wet wipes – closing the drawer with a small snap. 

Fernando lay still on Mark as he cleaned them up. His gentle touch was soothing and Fernando didn’t want it to stop. He winced slightly as Mark brushed the cloth over Fernando’s tender cock and Mark apologised kissing his temple. Mark cleaned himself and threw the sodden wipe in the bin. He wrapped an arm around Fernando, pulling him closer still, and brought the duvet over them. Mark let out a content sigh; this was where he wanted to be forever. He didn’t realise Fernando had opened his eyes. He didn’t realise the fear that resided in the wide eyes laying on him. He didn’t realise the slight tightening of Fernando’s grip on his torso. The time had come. Everything had been completed. Final race. Final podium. Final night. It was done, and Mark was so caught up in his elation he didn’t notice it all crumbling around him. 

“I should go.” Fernando said in a tone that could have been mistaken as normal. Mark tightened his grip a little on Fernando, rubbing his arm slowly, and so didn’t realise the Spaniard had begun to dig his nails into the bare flesh of Mark’s side. Too afraid to let go because of what that would mean.

“What if I don’t want you to?” Mark asked, looking up at the ceiling. Fernando closed his eyes. He didn’t want Mark to question him; he wanted this to be clean. He wanted to get up and leave and have no consequences. But that was never going to happen. 

“You have a plane to catch,”

“I can catch another plane,” Mark shrugged, placing an innocent kiss on Fernando’s forehead. Which was a mistake, because suddenly he was laying alone, the warmth of Fernando’s body seeping into the air too quickly. Mark frowned at the retreating figure of the man he loved as he bent over a neatly folded pile of clothes and began to pull on his boxers. “Fernando?” Fernando didn’t look at him; he was focused on getting dressed. He turned his back to Mark as he pulled on his jeans. Mark pushed the duvet back and swung his legs off the bed with the intention of getting up. The material Fernando had thrown at his face momentarily blinded him. Mark looked down at the famous purple/blue pyjamas before assuming Fernando’s silent message to covering himself up and pulled them on. Fernando pulled on his Ferrari shirt as Mark stood up, leaning on the end post of the bed. “What’s up, bu-?”

“-Don’t call me that.” Fernando said harshly as he sat on the floor and pulled on his socks. Constantly keeping his back to Mark. Mark couldn’t understand Fernando’s sudden change. It aired an angered confusion that made him fold his arms across his chest. 

“What? I always-”

“-Am not some thing you can pet, Mark. Am a person. A man.” Fernando tied his first shoe with too much aggression. Mark was extremely perplexed; Fernando had never had a problem with his pet name before. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mark seethed. Fernando didn’t answer. He just continued to tie his laces. More anger bubbled in Mark. He deserved an explanation. He deserved to be told. He felt like the connection they had had mere moment ago hadn’t even happened. “Fernando!” When the Spaniard still didn’t answer, just reached his hand to the side to pick up his second shoe, Mark reacted immaturely and dove for the white trainer and retreated back to the bed when he had it firmly in his hand. Fernando had no choice but to look at him. He glared over at Mark.

“Give me my shoe,” Fernando said through gritted teeth, holding out his hand. Mark didn’t move. 

“Tell me what’s fucking wrong!”

“I don’t have time for your game. Need my shoe.” Fernando’s anger was becoming clearer. Mark threw the shoe up in the air and caught it, spinning it teasingly. 

“Don’t think I have time to, mate. Sorry,” Mark mimicked sarcastically. 

“Mark, don’t fuck with me. Just give me my shoe!” 

“What are you hiding from me?” Mark’s sudden realisation shone Fernando’s fear clearly across his face. Fernando turned his back again and picked up his track bag, heading for the door with only one shoe on his foot. “Don’t even think about leaving, Fernando, because I swear if you do you will fucking regret it.”

“I regret coming here today,” Fernando muttered. Mark felt himself deflate. He couldn’t mean that.

“I don’t believe you. You don’t mean that,” Mark said with shaking confidence. 

“If I hadn’t have come I wouldn’t have to do this,” Fernando sighed, releasing the door handle. 

“Fernando, you’re not making any fucking sense so why don’t you just explain.” Mark seethed. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t how he wanted to end the weekend. Fernando moved back into the room placing his bag back on the floor. It had been a simple plan that he should have known would never work. This relationship was not simple. Anything but. It was very complicated. 

“We can’t… Be us anymore…” Fernando said to the floor. Mark must have heard him wrong. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t be ending what they had. Not at how perfect it was. Not possible. 

“I… You’re wrong.” 

“Mark-”

“-No, Fernando. Don’t do this! It won’t change. We can still be us. I know you’re worried and you’re scared but-”

“-We can’t, Mark. It has changed. It’s all changed-”

“-It hasn’t, Fernando! Please, don’t. Don’t do this. I love you and you love me. We can work this,” Mark’s eyes were tearing up. It couldn’t end. It just couldn’t. He couldn’t imagine his life without Fernando. It was too hard, too much. 

“It changed and now so do we,” Fernando said. Mark frowned. 

“It? What’s it? Why does it mean we have to change?”

“Dasha. She…” Fernando couldn’t finish his sentence. Mark wanted to hold him but something rooted him to the floor. 

“You’re hiding something still. This. This is what you’re hiding.” Mark couldn’t stop the tear rolling down his cheek and Fernando chose that exact moment to look up. It broke him, torn him apart. He had never seen Mark cry before. This was not when he wanted to see it for the first time. 

“Mark-”

“-Just tell me.” Mark said, wiping the tear off his cheek, only for another to fall that he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to be crying; he wanted to look strong. But the soul crushing feeling building inside him was forcing them out of him. He couldn’t stop it because this really was happening. He was going to loose Fernando. The one perfect thing in his life and it was going to disappear. What they had just had was the last time. Mark was loosing Fernando. Fernando was going to walk out of the room for the last time and never look back. But Mark couldn’t look forward. So much he had planned. A future with Fernando by his side. Supporting him. Loving him. Sharing each other’s success. Mark couldn’t understand the change of heart. He couldn’t understand why Fernando was standing their, letting him spiral out of control. He wanted to lash out, but he also wanted to lock Fernando in the room and never let him go. 

“Dasha’s pregnant.” Fernando couldn’t look at Mark and Mark hadn’t been ready to hear that. 

The trainer in Mark’s hand clattered to the floor.


	23. Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.”   
> ~William Shakespeare~

“What?” 

“Dasha is… She’s pregnant.” 

“And this-?”

“-It means everything has to change,” Fernando couldn’t bring himself to look back up at Mark. The tears he had seen shinning on his cheeks were burned onto the inside of his eyelids and he couldn’t deal with seeing them again. He didn’t want to end things with Mark but he had to. It was a cruel twist of fate. But he couldn’t wreck the child’s life before it began. He had to stay with Dasha. He had to be in that family. But Mark couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be possible. 

“No. You can’t do this. It doesn’t-”

“-Mark, please don’t make this harder than it already is,”

“It’s not hard at all, because you don’t have to do anything,”

“You’re being ridiculous,”

“I’m not, Fernando,”

“Yes, Mark. You are.” Fernando said firmly. Mark could feel the anger beginning to build in him. He still couldn’t understand. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. 

“Why does her pregnancy equal the end of us?” Mark said, glaring over at Fernando.

“You seriously asking this question?” Fernando asked in disbelief. Mark’s tone was getting angrier and he folded his arms. 

“Yes, Fernando. I am. Sorry if it appears a little to simple for you, but-”

“-Put yourself in my shoes.” Mark blinked.

“What?” 

“Put yourself in my shoes, Mark.”

“OK,” Mark’s anger was very clear in his voice as he strode into the middle of the room and poorly imitated Fernando. “I’m Fernando Alonso, an obnoxious dick who is obviously extremely selfish!”

“You’re not being fair-”

“-I think I am, mate.” Mark glared over at him and he shrunk back slightly. “What is it you wanted me to imagine?”

“Say you were me, what would you do? On the one hand, you have this kid you didn’t really plan for that has fucked up everything you had planned but you can’t ruin its life before its even began. But on the other, you’ve got the man you love-”

“-Don’t give me that bollocks, Fernando, if you loved me this wouldn’t have happened,” Mark spat, turning away from Fernando and leaning on the desk. Fernando was hurt; he knew that wasn’t true. He did love Mark and this was the worst thing he could have ever imagined doing to him. And he hated himself. Hated himself for getting caught in the moment. Hated himself for letting Dasha have her way with him. Hated himself for lying to Mark and trying to keep up his pretence with Dasha. He wished he had just left her. He wished he had screamed from the mountains, told everyone. Wrote a personal letter of revelation to the press, anything that would have come off the back of that would have been easier than this. He was doing something he didn’t want to do whereas Mark would have supported him through the press battles and the flying accusations. But he couldn’t ask for Mark’s support now. 

“I do love you, Mark-”

“-Right.” Mark stated in an incredulous tone. Fernando wanted to protest. Mark didn’t believe him but it was true. Every time he had said it. It was always true. Before he could even take a step towards Mark the Australian spun around and caught his face, his expression twisted in a bizarre smile. 

“It can’t be yours!” Mark said in hysterical glee. Fernando was confused and Mark’s delusion was worrying him. But Mark didn’t care because he had found his loophole, a way for Dasha to be pregnant and Fernando to still stay with him. Things were going to be OK. 

“But it-”

“-No, she must have cheated on you; you would have had to had sex to get her pregnant and you haven’t…” Mark’s voice faded at Fernando’s expression. It was telling him he was wrong. Mark couldn’t believe what was happening. His hands fell away from Fernando’s face and he took a step away from him. He felt used. Fernando wasn’t supposed to do this to him. Fernando was supposed to love him and never hurt him, but this was the worst thing he could have done. 

“Mark, plea-” 

“-When?” Mark folded his arms and donned a stony expression, folding his arms and removing all emotion from himself. Fernando looked at the floor. 

“Last week. I’m so sorry I should have-”

“-You just weren’t going to tell me? Thanks a lot, mate, that makes me feel really special,”

“Mark, you don’t-”

“-That’s why you’ve been off all weekend. You weren’t sad about me leaving-”

“-That’s not fair-”

“-You felt guilty and you were trying to soften me up by making it all about me-”

“-No, Mark. I wanted to make your last-”

“-And by making it about me you took the attention from yourself. Very clever. Did Dasha help you plan that? Or maybe even Seb-?”

“-FOR FUCK SAKE MARK THAT IS NOT WHAT THIS IS!” Fernando shouted. Mark was slightly taken aback by Fernando’s sudden raised voice but he was still hurt and angry. No words were going to make this all better. He glared at Fernando.

“Then do enlighten me because I have obviously been under the wrong impression!” Mark raised his voice as well but Fernando didn’t back down. 

“I am sad. Am sad you have left and am sad we have to end like this! I don’t want to end it! I don’t want this kid but I’ve got no choice, Mark! I love you and only you. I will only ever love you but we can’t-!”

“-Then don’t end it!” Mark moved back over to Fernando and held his face again. “Stay with me, we can work it out with the kid-” 

“-You don’t get it!” Fernando exasperated as he pushed Mark’s hands off him and paced around the room, feeling his anger burning stronger. Mark didn’t understand. It was simple: Fernando had to work out his priorities and that was his child. He couldn’t leave Dasha anymore and he couldn’t keep this cheating, on whichever one of them it was he was cheating on, going. It was so unlike him to even be cheating in the first place. But he felt worse for cheating on Mark because he loved him. And he didn’t love Dasha. But he was trapped, their was no escape, no happy ending for him. 

“Stop fucking pacing.” Mark spat from his position sat on the end of the bed. Fernando stood still and turned back to look at Mark, still burning with rage. 

“You think this is easy for me, don’t you,”

“I don’t need you fucking pretending anymore, Fernando, so why don’t you just tell me the truth so I can try to respect you again,”

“Am not lying, Mark! I do lov-”

“-Don’t.” Mark held his hand up to Fernando, rendering the Spaniard silent. He couldn’t deal with hearing it again; it hurt too much. Mark didn’t know what to do because there was nothing he could do. This was going to end tonight and he couldn’t stop it. Fernando would leave and return to Dasha and Mark would get on a plane and go home and that would be it. No more of what they were. No more being happier than he had ever been. No more planning for a future with Fernando. And the thought was soul crushing. He couldn’t find any words to say. 

“Mark. This is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do,” Fernando paused, looking at Mark. When the Australian didn’t move or react he continued. “Talk to me. Plea-”

“-No. You don’t get to ask anything of me anymore.” Mark said, letting the fresh tears roll down his face. What was the point of stopping them now? The worst had happened and their seemed to be no other reason to ever cry again. This was the one time he was allowed to, he was allowed to be hurt now and let it show. 

“Mark,” Fernando’s tone was soft, pained. It made Mark more hurt, angrier. He shook his head and heard Fernando sigh. Fernando didn’t want this, this wrecked version of Mark. He had always been so strong, so defiant if someone said no. And now he was nothing, a wasted ruin in front of Fernando. And Fernando had done it to him: broken him. Mark was staring at the floor under his feet. The purple/blue material that disguised his legs swam into his watery vision. The message Fernando had really given by throwing them over was too clear now; he wasn’t asking Mark to cover himself up, he was getting rid of any connections he had with the Australian. 

The one thing Mark had associated with Fernando and himself so much and he had it back. He was giving it all back because he couldn’t have it anymore. Mark hated the unborn child. Looking at the destruction it had already produced and it wasn’t even born yet. Why couldn’t Fernando punish it for the rest of its life in the same way? Mark wanted to be selfish. He wanted Fernando to stay and leave this child he didn’t want. But he understood that couldn’t happen. He accepted it with a heavy heart at the sight of himself wearing Fernando’s pyjamas. 

Fernando watched Mark for a while, but nothing came from the Australian. Just tears rolling down his cheeks and splashing onto his legs, seeping into the material he was staring at. It was torturous to watch and Fernando continued to hate himself. He believed that he would for the rest of his life because of what he had done, what he was doing and what he was going to do in the future. He retrieved his discarded trainer from the floor and crouched to tie it up. It was time to go now. He was no longer being fair to Mark. 

“So what happens now?” Mark asked, still looking at his legs. Fernando finished tying his shoe before he stood up again, looking with sorrow filled eyes at Mark. 

“We forget these last few months because we have to. And we pretend that they never happened,” Mark turned to face Fernando; still surprised by the shit that Fernando could throw at him. Not only was he asking him to stop, but he was also asking him to forget. 

“As simple as that?” Mark seethed. Fernando couldn’t hold his gaze. 

“I never said it would be easy,”

“But you want me to just forget everything that happened between us: what we did, what we shared, what we told each other?” Fernando paused, feeling his own eyes begin to water. He didn’t want to forget any of that stuff and he wanted it to continue. But it couldn’t. 

“Because we have to.”

“And what? Just be friends again, go back to how it was?” Mark’s anger was becoming clearer again but Fernando accepted it. He was literally taking everything away from Mark. He would have been confused if he had have been fine with it. 

“I would like-”

“-It won’t fucking happen.” Mark stated looking up at Fernando. “You walk out now and you won’t see me again. It will be too hard. I can’t…”

“Mark…” Fernando moved over to the bed, perching beside Mark. He couldn’t loose him forever. This couldn’t be the last they ever saw of each other. Fernando wouldn’t let that happen. He would force Mark to stay in his life; what was the point if Mark wasn’t around? There wasn’t one. And Fernando couldn’t let him go entirely. “You can’t mean-”

“-I do. I can’t just pretend, Fernando. I can’t sit on the sidelines and watch you be with her. I have already done it for too long. It was easier then when I didn’t know… but now I know you feel the same… I can’t.” Mark turned away from Fernando just as the first tear fell onto the Spaniard’s face. He reached his hand out to take Mark’s but Mark pulled away, getting up and crossing the room until he was standing by the window. He kept his back to Fernando. 

“Mark, please don’t-”

“-Just go, Fernando.”

“No, Mark. I can’t. Not if this is the last time. You can’t leave me.”

“But you’re just fine to leave me.” Mark turned his head to the side and watched Fernando in his peripheral vision. The Spaniard’s voice got caught in his throat at Mark’s statement. Because it was true. That was exactly what he was asking Mark to do: let him go but hold on at the same time. It was a contradicting request, an oxymoron. And that wasn’t fair. Mark realised Fernando had understood and turned back to look out the window. “Go.” With much mental force, Fernando pushed himself off the bed and crossed the room, picking up his track bag and swinging it onto his back. He forced himself not to cry until he was out of the room, away from Mark. The tears ran quickly down his cheek as he exited the room, closing the door with a gentle snap, not looking back at the man he loved. 

Mark crumpled to the floor. He couldn’t do this. It was too hard, too much was being asked of him. And he let himself sob and yell and throw things and he didn’t care who heard him. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right and he felt cheated. Cheated by the world that had promised him better things. But here he was, lying alone on his bed just as he had been three, four months back. Feeling as if he hadn’t done anything, hadn’t progressed in his life at all. He was back to square one but falling into the void of unknown with no one to help him through. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and opened the drawer he had retrieved the wet wipes from all that time ago. He was still crying, but he was more in control of himself. He had opened it to get his phone, to try and delete anything that could surprise him and opened fresh wounds all over his skin. But his eyes fell on the blue box first. And he felt his brain freeze in a state where he couldn’t register anything. Jenson had been wrong. They were not in the same place. Or maybe they had been but now that place was so far away that the mere notion of how Mark had planned on ending the evening felt ridiculous. He picked up the box and opened it, looking down at the plain, gold band set on the red velvet. He shook his head at it. Hating the promise it had presented, the false hope that everything could be normal. Still looking down at it he retrieved his phone. 

There was only one person Mark needed to call. 

Fernando didn’t hear any of the commotion from the room he had left. He was trying to sort himself out before he had to re-enter a similar room with Dasha. He felt numb. It was as if it hadn’t really happened. As if he was going to wake up in the morning and be next to Mark and explain the bizarre dream he had had. And Mark would pull him closer, explaining how that could never happen. Nuzzle his cheek and Fernando would turn to him, bringing their lips-

He couldn’t think that anymore; it wasn’t a dream. It was very much reality. And he had to keep himself numb. Right now it was a reality he couldn’t deal with. 

He opened the door and put his bag down on the floor, intending to go and lie on the bed and calm himself down. He was hanging on a very thing thread: too much pressure and he would descend into a desolate state. He didn’t know where Dasha was, but she wasn’t in the room. He fell back and pushed his palms over his eyes, willing himself to not realise the magnitude of what he had done. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Dasha said, bringing him firmly back to the place he was laying. He closed his eyes, trying to force her voice out of his head. “You came back from the track hours ago. You just left me stranded there,”

“I knew someone would give you a lift.” Fernando muttered. 

“Great. Thank you for that.” Dasha paused for a moment and perched on the edge of the bed, folding her arms. “So what was so important that you had do disappear like that?”

“Sebastian give you a lift?” Fernando said, moving his hands from his face and glaring at the ceiling. Dasha pouted. 

“What does it matter who-?”

“-Did Sebastian give you a lift?” Fernando asked again, turning to face her: the woman he was stuck with. She tried to hold his gaze but couldn’t. 

“Yes, but I don’t see why-”

“-Bit predictable.” Fernando commented shaking his head. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Where the hell have you been all weekend?” 

“What?”

“You haven’t been in the Ferrari garage because I’ve been there and I haven’t seen you,”

“You were in the garage, unless you were enjoying a red cake,” Dasha spat back. Fernando sat up, frowning. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Where did you go after you left the track, Fernando?” Dasha asked, getting impatient. “Because you left me there so it was somewhere you didn’t want me to know about,”

“You’re being paranoid,” Fernando said, getting up off the bed and crossing to his track bag. He didn’t want to relive the last few hours of his life, especially not with Dasha. 

“It’s funny because I thought that too,” Dasha said, getting up. Fernando was crouched next to his bag and froze. He wasn’t sure what she meant but he had a feeling it wasn’t going to end well for him. “I thought: don’t be stupid, Dasha, he wouldn’t do something like that. Not the way he works. But I was wrong, wasn’t I, Fernando,” She moved closer to him and he swallowed. 

“I’ve really got no idea-”

“-Yes you do. Where have you been?” Dasha threw her arms down by her side in anger. Fernando sighed and looked back in his bag. “I know what’s been going on.”

“Nothing’s been-”

“-Enough, Fernando.” Dasha said, sinking to the floor next to him. He turned to face her, abandoning his bag. If she knew he was going to make her say it. Then he was going to go and kill Sebastian Vettel. 

“Well?” Fernando asked. Dasha folded her knees up and hugged them close to herself. If she knew then he might as well just tell her and put her out of her misery. Not that it would change anything anymore. “Dash, I’m not going to tell you anything. But I won’t lie.”

“Where have you been?”

“Mark’s room,” Fernando said, watching Dasha’s face. He definitely confirmed something because her jaw locked. 

“Why?”

“I was saying good-bye,” A flicker of confusion danced on Dasha’s features. That really could have meant anything but it didn’t confirm her suspicions. Not suspicions anymore, they had been confirmed with solid evidence a few days ago. 

“I didn’t want to believe what Seb was telling me,” She started. Fernando despised the shortening of the German’s name. It was something Mark did. He didn’t want to be thinking about Mark; it hurt. “All the things he had observed, the moments he had to second guess. He doesn’t think anything of it… Might do now.”

“Dasha he’s a lying twat. He’s known about it for ages,” Fernando said, his anger at the manipulative games Sebastian had been playing with Dasha showing. But Dasha jumped to the defensive. 

“He wouldn’t do that! Unlike your second-best fuck buddy, Seb is actually-”

“-Don’t say a word against Mark, Dasha, because you’re getting into things you don’t fucking understand,”

“And what about me, Fernando? What if someone said a word against me?” She said, looking up at Fernando as the Spaniard stood. He wasn’t going to sit here and listen to her trash Mark but praise Sebastian just like everyone else did. He crossed the room with anger burning through him.

“I wouldn’t really give a fuck, Dash.” Fernando said, looking out the window. 

“Charming. Thought you cared about me, Fernando,”

“Not as much as him,” Fernando muttered so Dasha couldn’t hear. “No where near.”

“What?” Fernando turned around to see her on her feet.

“I care about him more, Dasha.” Dasha didn’t know how to take his words. Her hand subconsciously covered her abdomen and she looked at the floor. 

“Then why are you even here?” Fernando sighed. He could tell her the truth. He had promised to. But he couldn’t leave her feeling that they only reason he was here and not downstairs with Mark was because of the small child growing in her stomach. He toyed with words until the formed confusing sentences in his head that made no sense. “I saw you together.” Dash continued to the floor. Fernando looked up at her. 

“What?” His voice faltered on the little word. 

“Mark and… Mark and you. I saw you. That’s how I know. Because I saw you.” Fernando took a tentative step towards her but couldn’t get any closer. He didn’t want to hurt her any more that he already had and it was becoming a trend of his to reduce the people he was talking to into tears. 

“Dasha-”

“-It was on Friday. You came out of your briefing with Andrea and went to the waiter. You talked and then you went, walking straight past my table as if I wasn’t even there. I just assumed you had something on your mind so I followed you. You went down the stairs and out the back. I was confused and then another girl who had obviously been crying came running past, again ignoring me. I began to wonder if I had turned invisible. But I was worried because you were acting strange and then this girl had appeared. So I continued along the corridor and looked out the window in the door. I saw you. At first you were just talking, holding his face and I couldn’t work out what was going on. I thought you were being a supportive friend and helping him through the weekend. But everything Seb had said… It came rushing to mind. And I tried to tell myself I was wrong, you were just being his friend… But then…” Dasha stopped talking and Fernando knew what she had seen. Mark’s small kiss may have been confusing, but it was Fernando who had closed the gap between them. And Dasha had seen that, she had seen them together. Much more concrete evidence than Sebastian could have ever provided. 

“I wanted to leave,” She continued. “Turn away and run off but I couldn’t. I found myself routed to the spot, watching. Noticing the way you were together, the same way we used to be. But we’re not like that anymore because you share it with him. And I felt myself becoming more and more jealous. It was only when he pulled out the cake again I was able to leave, feeling I had interrupted some private moment. And when I saw the wrapper in your garage. I couldn’t stay around it. Just knowing what it was, what it represented.” 

“Dasha, I-”

“-Don’t you dare apologise for what you give each other. I suppose I’ve known for a while something was different. You were happier than you had been and it didn’t make any sense; we were only getting worse and there was not a lot of success coming from the team. But I couldn’t see what it was. But after that… I wish you would have just told me.” Dasha looked up at Fernando but he was looking at the floor. It had been hard hearing Mark’s effect on him from an outsider’s perspective because what he had thrown away was too perfect. And apparently everyone else could see that too. But he couldn’t go back there because he had this child and he had to give it the best chance in life. So he had to push Mark as far away as possible, not let him come anywhere close. 

“It was complicated. I didn’t want it to blow in our faces. And with the press. I was being selfish.” Fernando said. Dasha crossed the room so she stood in front of him. She caught his face with her hand and tilted it up so he looked at her, then moved it to his shoulder. Because she wasn’t the one to give him comfort any more, brushing the tears from his cheek. That had been passed on. 

“I understand, Fernando. Love can make you do crazy things,” she said with a sad smile. Fernando was so relieved that she understood; she didn’t hate him. But her voice seemed to be leading to a conclusion he had written off on Wednesday evening when she had announced she was pregnant. She was being his friend and he appreciated her so much for that. Maybe it would be easier to stay with her with everything out in the open. 

“But it’s over now.” Fernando said in a stern voice, looking at the floor with his eyes. He was talking more to himself than Dasha. Dasha frowned. 

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t… Not anymore.” Dasha began to panic. 

“Fernando, what are you talking about? Tell me this is just a weird Spanish way of phrasing a break up and that the only reason you have come up here from Mark is to tell me its over between us and then you are going back down to him.” There was a pause in which Fernando sighed. 

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Dasha said, wide eyed. Fernando answered her by placing a hand on her abdomen. She shook her head in disbelief as a tear ran down her cheek. “No. Please tell me you’re joking,”

“I can’t ruin bump’s life, Dash.”

“You won’t, Fernando. I’ll make sure. Just plea-”

“-No, Dasha. I can’t just abandon you both. That’s not fair.”

“But-”

“-I’ve made my decision.” Fernando stated in a tone that told her not to argue. She couldn’t believe what he was giving up. This wasn’t fair on him. He was doing too much. Fernando seemed to read this all in her eyes. “It’ll be OK. Now all the lies are out on the table we can work this out. You know everything now, Dash, but you need to forget it. We all need to forget it. It’s not like we’ll accidently cross paths. He is going his way and we are going ours. That’s it now. Everything else needs to be forgotten.” He looked up from his hand and into Dasha’s face. He couldn’t believe how OK she was about Mark and he, but it didn’t matter anymore. Maybe if he hadn’t have tried to be selfish and hidden everything from her this wouldn’t have happened and he could still be happy with Mark. But he had brought this upon himself and now he had to live with the consequences. He pulled Dasha into a hug and stroked her hair gently. 

They were going to make this work. They were going to forget about Mark.


	24. News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “To a philosopher all news, as it is called, is gossip, and they who edit and read it are old women over their tea.”  
> ~Henry David Thoreau~

“Mark?” The voice on the end of the phone was not surprised, just expectant. Mark looked over at the clock on his bedside table and noted that he had forty-five minutes before he had to leave the hotel to catch his plane. He sniffed and dried his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“Annie,” His voice broke on her name as he looked down at the ring in his hand and he lost it. He tried to silence his sobs and managed to muffle them, but he still knew she could hear them. He gasped for breath but still couldn’t stop his crying. This was stupid; how was he going to explain his state if he couldn’t even speak. 

“Hold on a minute, sweetie,” Ann said to Mark down the phone. Her voice became slightly muffled though he could still hear her. “Ben, can you watch her a minute? Yes, Sarah, Mummy will be back in a moment, just stay with Luke and Daddy for a bit and watch your programme. I’ll be back in a moment and you can tell me all about what happened,” Mark closed the box and dropped it on the bed behind him, laying on his side and curling into the foetal position. One hand pushed his phone to his ear as the tears rolled over the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes and pictured the domestic scene he could hear. It was beautifully painful to imagine. Everything he wanted but something he never could have. Not now. Because Fernando wasn’t just going away for a little while, he was gone forever. The unborn child inside Dasha had stolen him. Mark heard a door close on the other end of the line and had somehow managed to calm his breathing. “Sweetie, what’s up?”

“I…” Mark couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was too painful. He hoped that Annie would be able to work it out but he hadn’t told her anything about Fernando. There was no way she would be able to pin point exactly what had happened. 

“Mark, sweetie, you need to calm yourself down. I can’t help you if you can’t talk to me,” she said in a soothing tone. Mark tried to even his breathing again. This would have been so much easier if she already knew. 

“I… It’s... Fernan…” Mark couldn’t do it. The thought of saying out loud what had happened would confirm it had actually happened. And that was something Mark couldn’t deal with.

“Fernando? Mark, honey, what’s up with Fernando?” He could tell Ann had no idea what he was trying to say but respected her so much for trying. He felt bad for pulling her away from the kids; he wasn’t going to be able to tell her what happened. 

“Nothing… sorry, go back to-”

“-Don’t be stupid, Mark.” She interrupted. “You called me for a reason. You’re unintelligible through sobs and you called me because you wanted to talk about it. Just tell me,”

“This would have been so much easier if I had called you before. I wanted to. But he…”

“Mark, if you don’t think I know Fernando and you are in some sort of relationship then you’ve forgotten how well I know you,” Mark should have been stunned by her knowledge but she was right. Mark had always been very open with her and that was the exact reason he had called her. 

“Were.” Mark swallowed. The line went quiet for a moment. 

“Were?” Ann asked. Mark nodded, knowing if he spoke again he would career into sobs. It wasn’t worth it and she seemed to pick up on the movement of his head. Her tone turned upset. “But on the podium? Before the race? Mark, you were so in-”

“-Please don’t say it.” Mark closed his eyes. He couldn’t deal with being told, again, how in love they had looked. It seemed that had all been a façade. 

“Honey, what happened? I can’t expect he would have just fallen out of-”

“-Annie, I said don’t say that.”

“What happened, Mark?” Mark took a deep breath. This was going to take some explaining and he wanted to make sure Annie didn’t loose any respect for Fernando. Fernando was just doing what he thought he had to and he needed Annie to understand that. 

“The girl he is with is pregnant.” The silence ran on for longer this time. 

“I don’t understand.” Mark explained to Ann what had happened since the faithful night in Korea. She stayed quiet throughout his explanation, agreeing with him at points and not saying much at others. He could tell what she didn’t like or what she wouldn’t have done. But she listened to him without interrupting. And Mark felt better to just be getting it all off his chest, to be able to share it all with someone. He got up to reading the red note in the lift tonight and had to stop. Because he couldn’t relive that soul-crushing moment where Fernando told him it was over. Ann sighed on the end of the line, seeming to pick up on what he had left out. 

“Well if there is any doubt that he loves you, you need to let it go,” she said. He could tell there was a string of frustration in her voice aimed at some of the things she had heard. 

“But if he loved me then why sleep-”

“-Don’t get me wrong, I’m not impressed at what he did. But you have to understand that he was doing what he thought he needed to. He thought but keeping the girl-”

“-Dasha,”

“Right. He thought by keeping Dasha happy that he would save the press getting involved between you. I know it’s difficult to see because you feel hurt, Mark, but he really had your interests at heart,”

“Why couldn’t he have just told me what he had done? I would have understood,”

“Just as I’m sure you understood tonight,” Ann added sarcastically. Mark understood her point: he hadn’t taken the news well when Fernando told him. And if he was honest with himself he knew he would have reacted the same if Fernando had told him at any other time. He sighed again at how well Annie knew him. Possibly better than Fernando did.

“So were we really that obvious or were you just reading my every movement and knowing exactly what I’m thinking like you usually do?” Mark asked. He sat himself up and hung his legs off the edge of the bed. Momentarily. The sudden relation to Fernando having sat in that exact position earlier that evening threw him back on the bed, curling into himself again. He forced away the new tears. 

“No, not obvious at all. If you told Ben he would be very shocked. Just me being able to read you like a book,” she said soothingly. There was a pause. “You’re referring to the relationship in a past tense,”

“Yeah… It’s over,”

“Holy shit… He has really broken you,” Annie said, gobsmacked. Mark pulled his knees closer to him. “What’s happened to your fight? The guy who wouldn’t accept no?”

“Annie, it’s a kid. If he’s decided that he is going to be in it’s life from now on that’s not going to change. He wants to be it’s Dad. What is the point in fighting that?”

“You fell hard this time, didn’t you, Mark. I bet your curled in the foetal position now-”

“-I didn’t call you to get taken the piss out of, Annie,” Mark spat, getting annoyed at how she seemed to be passing right over how Mark was feeling.

“I’m not taking the piss, Mark,”

“It sounds like you are.” There was a pause where neither of them knew what to say. 

“Why were you calling then, Mark?” Ann asked, her soothing, motherly tone returning to her voice. But Mark didn’t have the answer.

“I needed to tell someone… I needed someone else to understand how I feel…” Mark asked.

“You seem to be asking me that, Mark,”

“I don’t know… I just…”

“Mark, what happened after the red envelope?” Ann asked cautiously. She had been aware of the abrupt end to the story and knew something else had happened; she wanted her guess to be confirmed. If the relationship was now over and it hadn’t been before the red envelope she had a pretty good idea of what had happened. Mark kept his eyes closed, forcing them not to tear up. 

“He ended it.”

“Mark, you know what I’m asking you.” Mark sat up, keeping his knees close to him. His foot caught the blue box he had discarded beside him and he looked down on it. He ran a hand through his hair feeling the sadness crashing down on him once again. 

“It… Err…” Mark cleared his throat to try and stop it from cracking under his emotions. It didn’t work. “Nothing… Nothing drastic happened…”

“Sweetie,” Mark closed his eyes as the first new tears burst free from his eyes. How Annie could get him down to each moment and thought he would never understand. Because here she was, again, knowing exactly what Mark hadn’t told her. He took a shaky breath. 

“I wanted to propose.” Mark put his free hand over his mouth as he felt himself shake with sobs again. He felt so stupid for crying so much but he couldn’t stop it. Each time he reminded himself of what had happened, what had ended, he couldn’t face it. And he felt physically in pain because of how he was trying to stifle the sound, a splitting feeling was running up his side. This wasn’t fair. 

“Oh, Mark,” Ann cooed down the line as he opened his eyes. Mark just wanted to stop crying. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Ann’s sympathy or not but he knew he had caught her out. She hadn’t expected Mark to be on the verge of such a huge step. “Sweetie,”

“I. Just. Thought. We. Were. In. The. Same. Place,” Mark said, punctuating each word with a deep breath, trying somehow to control his breathing. 

“Oh Mark, you are,”

“Not…” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Not anymore.”

“Mark, don’t say that-”

“-It’s not worth getting false hope about, Annie. It’s done. He’s gone and he’s never coming back.”

“No, Mark, he loves you. He won’t let you slip out of his life,”

“I told him I couldn’t… It would be too hard…”

“You’ve done it before,”

“But I didn’t know then… Annie, I’ve lost him forever,” Another daunting wave of realisation flooded Mark and he couldn’t believe he had enough fluids in him to be producing this amount of tears. He was starting to feel a little light-headed and tried to calm his breathing. Nothing was working. Annie went quiet on the other end of the line for a moment. 

“What time do you fly home?” Mark turned over his shoulder and looked at the clock. He had ten minutes to sort himself out and leave the hotel. 

“I’ll be in England about ten your time.” Mark sighed, drying his face with his hand. Ten minutes to look almost normal… It was never going to happen. 

“Right. I’m going to pick you up.” Ann declared. Mark was shocked. 

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I’m not leaving you on your own tonight. You need someone with you, Mark. Don’t try to do this on your own.”

“Annie, seriously, it’s very kind, but-”

“-No buts, Mark. I’ll see you at ten.” Mark paused.

“What about the kids? Ben? Are you sure they will be alright with this?”

“Mark we have a spare room for a reason. Get you self sorted and go get that plane. I’ll see you later.”

“Thank you, Annie.” Mark said genuinely relieved to not have to return to another place that would remind him of Fernando. This was going to be very difficult. 

“Any time, Mark.” She smiled and the line went dead. Mark put the phone down and looked over his shoulder at the little blue box. He didn’t have the heart to return it; he couldn’t bear to see the face of the jeweller. He could only imagine it would be sad and he didn’t want to have to face it. He picked it up off the bed and took it over to his already packed bag, stashing I away deep in the bottom. He would just have to forget about it’s existence, just like he had to try and forget how Fernando felt about him…

It was going to be a long night. 

\- - -

You were right; Fernando and Mark were together. But Nando’s given it up for bump and me. They were in love. I feel bad x 

Sebastian looked down at the message from Dasha. He had assumed Fernando would forget about telling her Mark and he had had a thing going after Dasha told him she was pregnant. From what Dasha had said Fernando didn’t initially take the news too well. But the ball was in motion now. Faze one complete. Sebastian smiled down at his phone imagining how much internal turmoil Fernando must have been subject to. He had to choose between staying with the kid and staying with Mark. Sebastian typed back a reply.

Bump? x

He knew Dasha would want some more substance than that from him but he needed to work out exactly what everyone was doing. Mark was supposedly getting on a plane relatively shortly and heading back to the UK, Fernando was stuck with Dasha in a room above where Seb was sitting. Seb tapped his phone on his knee happily. Everything was going very well from where he was sitting. Each person unknowingly playing their part perfectly. 

His phone made an odd noise that didn’t signal a text. It was a notification that Mark was using his phone. Seb got excited hoping maybe Mark was trying to call Fernando and get him to talk. Unfortunately it was not. Mark had just got a text from Ann. Seb shut of the notification, not really caring the message might consist of. Why Ann was texting Mark he had no idea. He eagerly slid the phone open when Dasha’s next text came through. 

What Fernando referred to the baby as. I thought it was cute. Though that wasn’t really the response I was hoping for… x

Sebastian smiled again; Fernando was already getting attached to the kid. The swiftness of Fernando’s change of heart had worried Seb a little. He questioned the legitimacy of Fernando’s feelings for Mark, wondering if they had really been as much as he had first suspected. But there was too much evidence to support that there really was a lot there, which made Seb grin wider. Something that should have been set in a strong foundation and he had ripped out its roots and torn it to pieces. There was something satisfying about what he had accomplished. But he wasn’t finished yet. Not with Fernando Alonso. 

It will be fine, Dasha. If he loves you and he loves bump then everything will be fine. Don’t say anything. x 

For the plan to work it was crucial Dasha kept her mouth shut. All the shit he had put up with from her over the past year. Building her trust, making sure she told him everything about Fernando: how he worked, what annoyed him, his weaknesses. She had had no idea that she was handing over this information, too wrapped up in being able to moan to someone about the ‘perfect’ Fernando Alonso. And Sebastian had welcomed it. His phone buzzed again and he walked out of the bathroom with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth to collect it from the bedside table.

But he doesn’t love me; he loves Mark. 

Dasha needed to be reassured, that was how the Russian worked. She needed Sebastian to tell her she was wrong. So that is what he did.

You don’t know that. If he is with you then he loves you xx

He had taken four steps back towards the bathroom when his phone buzzed again. Rolling his eyes, he returned to it. 

Seb, he told me. He was honest and he told me. He doesn’t love me. And I feel like I ruined everything. I’m going to tell him; if I tell him then at least I did the right thing. 

Sebastian panicked. It was too crucial Fernando was kept in the dark. It was too early to play the joker. If he played it now he may as well fold. He had to hold his hand. His mouth began to salivate around the head of his toothbrush as it cautiously hung from his mouth, daring to try and escape. 

You tell him now and it will ruin him. If you’re right and he really did love Mark (Sebastian felt sick just typing the words) then their break-up would have been horrible. He would have been going against all of his instincts. Do. Not. Tell. Him. Unless you want to see him in more pain. 

Sebastian darted to the bathroom to rinse out his mouth before Dasha text back. He picked up the phone just as the new message buzzed through. 

Sorry. I guess you are right. I just feel horrible.   
See what sort of a mess I would be in without you? ;’) xxx 

Seb snorted a laugh; she would not be in the mess she was in if it wasn’t for him. Ahh, his perfect little plan. All that was required to make it work was a dumb blonde, though she had dyed her hair brunette now, and Fernando had picked her perfectly. One of these days he would have to thank him. 

It’s understandable, but you’ve got to be strong. It’s going to be a long nine months but I will be here every step of the way xxx

He was impressed at how good he was at lying. He pulled on his pyjamas and snuggled down into the warmth of his bed before the next text came through. 

Thank you :’) xxxxxxxxx

Seb sighed. How naïve poor Dasha was. 

Quite alright :) I don’t suppose he would be too happy with you texting me if he was about, so where is he? 

“Sulking in the bathroom because he can’t fuck his boyfriend anymore?” Sebastian added out loud to himself in a pleased tone. He wrinkled his nose at the comment; it was all too weird for him. 

Gone for a walk xxx

Sebastian frowned at the message. Why was Fernando walking? Maybe he was going back to Mark. Maybe he was going to try and run a relationship with the Australian whilst raising a kid with Dasha. That would be fragile, very easy to blow in Fernando’s face. Seb crossed his fingers. 

The knock on the door was unexpected. Seb frowned at the white wood for a moment until he pushed himself out of bed and crossed the small distance to the door. He looked through the peephole, but whoever it was had their back pressed against the other side of the door and blocked any sight. Seb sighed and turned the handle. He was surprised to be face to face with Fernando. 

“Hello?” Sebastian said. Fernando grunted in return and walked a little way into the room, pushing past Seb. Sebastian closed the door behind the Spaniard and walked in front of him, holding his stony gaze.

“Thank you,” Fernando said bluntly in a tone that could have been sarcastic but could have also been sincere. Seb blinked, utterly bemused. 

“You’re welcome?” Sebastian replied sceptically. Fernando resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

“For bringing Dasha back to the hotel. I should have done, but-”

“-I don’t need gory details,” Sebastian held up a hand as he turned back to his bed. He scooped up his phone as he sat down, quickly reading the text from Christian. 

Just seen Mark get on the plane. Doesn’t look very happy. Very quiet. He is on his way to England. 

Satisfied with the news, he looked back to Fernando. He frowned again as he took in the Ferrari driver holding his hand out towards him as if he was expecting Sebastian to place something in it.

“I don’t-”

“-I don’t want any more of your shit, Sebastian.” Fernando said in a tone that was clearly angry. 

“What do-?”

“-Don’t play innocent because it is just you and me now. No Dasha to try and please or convince.” Sebastian admired Fernando’s guts at standing up to him; considering all the shit Seb was holding over his head. But it just showed Sebastian that Fernando was now a man with nothing to loose, which surprisingly boosted the Spaniard’s fight. Sebastian sat forwards, holding Fernando’s gaze. 

“And what is it you want, Fernando?”

“All your shit. Delete it.” Sebastian was a little confused and so Fernando changed his outstretched hand into a point and indicated to Sebastian’s phone. “You probably already know it’s…” Fernando couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, to reveal what he had done to Mark. “So just get rid of all that shit and lets move on. You win.” Fernando’s last statement was music to Sebastian’s ears. 

“Come again?” The German teased. Fernando rolled his eyes. 

“You managed to fuck up the one perfect thing in my life. I now feel like shit and I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel stuck, trapped, but I shouldn’t. It is a feeling I am going to have to live with for the rest of my life. For once in yours, show some fucking humanity and delete all that crap off your phone.” 

“But you said I…?” Sebastian prompted teasingly. He enjoyed watching Fernando feel like this, begging him for a small piece of solitude.

“You win, Sebastian. Again… You win.” Fernando sighed, defeated. He wanted this over but he couldn’t leave until that evidence was gone. Sebastian seemed satisfied and handed Fernando his unlocked phone. Fernando looked up at him. “Do you have any copies? Back-ups?” Sebastian extracted the hard drive from his backpack that he had put his copies on. He had nothing else; he handed all the evidence to Fernando. They were never getting back together, not after what Sebastian had planned, so there was no real need for the evidence any more. 

Fernando took the hard drive and placed it on the table as he set about going through Sebastian’s phone. The German got himself a glass of water and watched the concentration on Fernando’s face. He was determined to not miss anything and because of this focus he deleted the lot: the video in the lift all those months ago, the voice recording Sebastian had taken. However when he found the photo of Mark and him by the Tower of London a wave of dread, sadness and pain washed over him. He looked over to Sebastian. 

“How did you get this?” Fernando asked, turning the phone to face Seb. His voice had faltered on the short sentence as Seb looked over. 

“Didn’t Mark say? I’ve been hacking his phone since Japan. Any texts, calls, emails he gets I get. Quite handy.” Sebastian said nonchalantly as he took a gulp of water. Fernando looked down on the image. A happier time. He felt the tears welling in his eyes as he deleted the image. Just as he was about to hand the phone back a notification banner appeared at the top of the screen (Seb had turned the phone to silent as Fernando came in just in case Dasha text again, so he was unaware of the notification). Fernando saw that it was telling Seb Mark had sent a new text. Fernando clicked on the notification and an app opened. Mark’s ‘account’ appeared in front of him and he saw a new message had been sent to Ann. Of course Mark had gone to Ann. With a flash of hatred at Sebastian for things he had done, Fernando deleted Mark’s account from Seb’s phone, feeling that at least he had done something right by the Australian. After closing down all of the apps, Fernando handed the phone back. 

“Thank you.” Fernando said, picking up the hard drive and moving towards the door. Seb caught his arm. 

“So… A baby,” Sebastian started. Fernando pulled out of his grip, already feeling anger begin to pulse through him. 

“You have been speaking to Dasha,”

“Excited?” Seb asked. Fernando gave him a look that read if-you-want-to-remain-alive-don’t-ask-and-don’t-push-it. Sebastian held his hands up defensively. “Look after her. It’s going to be a hard nine months,” Sebastian said, clapping Fernando’s shoulder. Fernando gave one sharp nod and departed from the room. “If I have anything to do with it,” Sebastian added to the now empty room, a huge smile splitting across his lips. He laid back on the bed and grinned stupidly up at the ceiling. He didn’t even think he smiled this much when he won his fourth World Championship. A weird feeling spread through him as his thoughts fell to the baby in Dasha’s stomach. It was weird that he didn’t give a shit what happened to the child, even though it was his. 

\- - - -

Mark was lying on his back looking up at the ceiling. The foreignness of the room was making it harder to sleep, constantly reminding him of how much things had changed. But it was more the conversation he had had with Ann that had him lying awake. He was contemplating everything she had said when they arrived, but especially the point she hadn’t gone into. The one she refused to explain. 

Ann held him close to her and rubbed his arm in a soothing, motherly way. Mark had been fine. He had come in and was introduced to Ann’s family, smiling sweetly, accepting Ben and Luke’s hand and smiled at Sarah as she hid into Ben’s shoulder. It hadn’t been too bad; Sarah had been asleep but it was important she recognised Mark otherwise she would panic in the morning. The all said good night and Ann showed Mark to the spare room along the hall from the kitchen. 

She had been getting him fresh sheets after showing him around, telling him to make himself comfortable. But when she returned to him he was perched on the edge of the bed with his face buried in his hands. Sadness flooded through Ann as she dropped the sheets on the sideboard and crossed to Mark, pulling him close to her, smoothening his hair. The age gap between them made Ann feel like a mother to Mark. She rocked him gently. 

She let Mark talk in broken, fragmented sentences and she held him. Took his unanswerable questions and replied with soothing words. But nothing she could say would help him. She couldn’t believe how bad Mark’s luck was. And all the time he spoke something seemed out of place. The suddenness of how everything had deteriorated. It just didn’t seem right. 

“… And I just can’t imagine… Annie, this is so hard,” 

“Shh, Mark. I know, sweetie. It’s not fair,” She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and it reminded Mark too much of Fernando, the gentle caresses he had shared with the Spaniard. He wanted to push himself out of her grip but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. There was a pause where they were both silent. Mark thought of how unfair he was being to Ben, dragging his wife away. It must be hard for Ben every time Mark called to see Ann jump to his word. Or maybe he understood. Mark didn’t know and he was slowly just confusing himself more. Ann broke the silence. “How long ago… No, don’t worry,” Ann said, stroking Mark’s arm again. Mark said himself up. 

“Go on,” 

“It doesn’t matter, Mark.” 

“Just asked, Annie.” Ann looked at Mark’s face and, sighing, relented. 

“How long ago…” She chewed on her lip, trying to phrase it in the best way. “How long ago did Fernando tell you he had… um… with the girl…” Mark got her point. 

“A week.” Mark said, drying his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“A week?” Ann stated in shock. Mark frowned at her. 

“What?” 

“Just seems a little…” Ann looked at Mark’s face, seeing a small amount of hope growing there. She had to make a decision. Did she give Mark the hope? There was a chance that it could be wrong and then Mark would be even more hurt. But a week? Either Fernando had lied to Mark or there was someone else. Because when she had fallen pregnant with Sarah… “Don’t worry.” She couldn’t raise his hopes like that. She had to find out more about the situation. 

“Annie, don’t-”

“-Seriously, Mark. It’s just me having a funny thought.” 

“I’d like to know it, Ann-”

“-Leave it, Mark.” Ann said a little harshly, standing up. Mark pouted at her like a kid who had been told no to getting sweets. Ann turned away from him and collected his fresh sheets. “I know it’s hard, sweetie, but you’ve got to try and return to your normal self.” 

“But I-”

“-It will effect your racing, Mark. I want to see you on the top step on the podium in Le Mans next year. Don’t stew in this. Don’t let yourself down; you’re a talented driver.” Annie handed him his sheets with a soft smile…

And it was this point that had Mark lying awake. One week. She had been shocked by one week. Why? Mark was second-guessing everything he had originally thought. Maybe he had been shocked and emotionally restrictive that he had over looked some obvious point. Some simple loophole. And he was holding onto that thought. One week. 

He was bored of lying here letting the thoughts circle his head and confuse him further and threw the duvet off him. He crossed the room to where his track bag sat and extracted his laptop. He wasn’t tired, not in the slightest. He opened the spare room’s door quietly, shushing it as it creaked. He padded softly down the hall and walked into the kitchen, setting his laptop down on the island seating area. Moving over to the sink, he ran himself a glass of water and turned on his laptop. He wasn’t ready for the stack of plastic tubs to topple out of the cupboard that held the glasses and had to duck out of the way as they crashed to the ground. 

“Fucking hell!” he whispered, startled, towards the scattered pots. He stacked them carefully and put them back in the cupboard, moving back to his laptop and settling himself on one of the high chairs, opening up an Internet window and stretched his fingers out over the keys. The question that had been keeping him awake falling from his outstretched digits. 

Can you know if you are pregnant after one week?

The results had been unhelpful because Mark hadn’t been specific enough. He rolled his eyes after reading the fourth post from a girl who was panicking about the size her stomach had grown in a week. He amended his search. 

How long do you have to wait to take a pregnancy test?

The new search was a lot more successful. The top result was an NHS website and Mark clicked the link feeling his breath catch in his throat: 

After having intercourse it is key to know how long to wait before you take your test. Taking the test too early could result in inaccurate results and you may be pregnant even if the test reveals you are not. It takes a while for the body to recognise the fertilisation and produce the hormones into the body to aid the growth of life. Pregnancy tests test for the presence of human chorionic gonadotrophin (HCG) hormone in your urine. After you conceive a child your body begins to produce HCG. Around two weeks after conception, there is enough HCG in your body for most tests to detect if you are pregnant. 

Mark blinked at the last sentence. Two weeks? Mark couldn’t quite understand what he had read, or he was trying not to. He was becoming more and more confused. He went back to the search engine and selected the next website. He skimmed through it until he found the information he was looking for. 

A pregnancy test can be taken after the next due period is missed. If this is unknown, three weeks is a safe benchmark after the date of unprotected sex. Two weeks is the minimum time one should wait, as that is how long it takes for the pregnancy hormone to be clearly present in the urine.

Two weeks. There was that number again. Mark continued down the list of websites the search engine had presented to him. It was always the same answer. Two weeks. Two weeks. Two weeks. Fernando had said that it had been last week that he had had sex with Dasha. That was less than two weeks. Mark assumed it had happened in the few days that Dasha had wanted to just be her and Fernando. But that was definitely less than two weeks. Mark wished he hadn’t have search the Internet for more information. It was more confusing, created more questions in his head. Was Dasha actually pregnant? If she was Fernando wasn’t the father, so who was? Dasha wouldn’t fake this pregnancy to get Fernando to stay with her, right? Though Dasha was very close to Seb. It was a very Sebastian-like thing to do. Wait… Seb-

“Mark?” The soft mention of his name made him spin around, taking in Annie who was standing in the doorway. Her white night dress ran to her ankles and she rubbed her eyes tiredly. Mark must have woken her when he knocked the plastic tubs out of the cupboard. He felt like he had been caught in the act. He blushed. 

“Sorry,” Mark said, pushing the lid of his laptop down. Ann took a seat in front of him and placed her hands together on the tabletop.

“It’s half-two in the morning… Couldn’t sleep?” Ann already knew the answer; she suspected the thought of loosing Fernando was not the reason for his insomnia. 

“No,” Mark said, looking at the lid of his laptop and drawing the logo on the back with his finger. 

“What are you doing?” Mark didn’t want to admit it, but his silence seemed to answer Ann’s question. “Mark I told you to forget-”

“-Well I couldn’t.” Mark stated. He looked up at Ann. “You know that about me. If you didn’t want me to look into it then you shouldn’t have said.” Ann sighed. 

“What did you find?” Mark didn’t answer. He wanted to ask Annie about her pregnancies, find out how long she waited. Compare it to what he had already found. But he already felt like he had disappointed Ann. He didn’t want to pry. “Just ask me, Mark.”

“I-”

“-I know you want to, so just ask me. I will tell you the truth.” Mark’s eyes fell back onto his laptop. 

“How long did you… Wait?” 

“Three weeks for Sarah; I wasn’t too sure on dates. For Luke it was two.”

“So longer than one?”

“Yes.”

“I think they must have had… It might have happened on Tuesday or Wednesday,”

“So that’s about five… Six days?”

“Yeah… Not two weeks.”

“So what are you thinking now?” Ann asked, placing one of her hands on Mark’s in a supporting manner. Mark couldn’t stop the small smile creeping onto his face. 

“It’s not his.”

“I don’t think so, no.” Ann rubbed the back of Mark’s hand. Mark looked up at her. 

“Why didn’t you say?”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up unnecessarily.”

“Annie-”

“-Mark, if I had been wrong – and I still could be – it would have hurt you more and I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.” Mark lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. 

“Thank you, Annie. Thank you for caring.”

“I’ll always care, Mark.” She smiled sadly. They bid each other good night again and retired to their respective rooms. Ann didn’t know that Mark wasn’t planning on going to sleep. Not now. There was too much to think about. And too much to work out; he though he had it sussed. This was Sebastian’s involvement. Mark didn’t really want to find out where Seb had been planning on taking this, all he knew is that it would probably tear Fernando’s world apart. And Mark would protect Fernando until the end of the world. He had found hope again, and he had to act on it. On his third try, Sebastian answered the phone, his voice thick and sleepy. 

“Mark? What are you-?”

“Enough now, Sebastian. I know all about what you’ve done and you’re going to explain how it happened.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know Dasha’s kid is yours and not Fernando’s. So why don’t you cut the crap and explain, because I’ve got all night dedicated to understanding what the fuck you are trying to do.” There was a pause and Mark heard the flick of a switch. 

“All right, Mark. You’ve got all night. I’ll answer your questions.”

“And you’ll be honest? You tell me exactly what I want to know; I’ve got nothing to loose now, Seb. Don’t be anymore of a dick than you already are.” He heard the German clear his throat down the line, sensing his fear at what Mark might do now he was no longer under the restraint of Red Bull and had nothing to loose. There was a small pause. 

“Yes, I’ll be honest, I promise.” There was a pause in which Seb swallowed. “What do you want to know?”


	25. Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It is not the goodbye that hurts but the flashback that follows.”  
> ~Anonymous~

What was the harm in telling Mark? It wasn’t like he was ever going to see Fernando again. If Sebastian was honest with himself, he was a little afraid of what the Australian might do. Mark had put up with being second best to him for a while now and Seb could tell his patience was running out. It wouldn’t damage his plan. So he would tell Mark. If anything it would hurt the Australian more because he knew the Fernando had broken up with him for a kid that wasn’t even his. And there was nothing Mark could do about it. He let himself have a small smile as he rubbed his face in a tired fashion, waiting for Mark to speak. 

“I want to know everything. When you started this plan of yours and how it evolved. You can’t have honestly been planning on getting Dasha pregnant, I think that was an accident, a mistake maybe.” Mark said, his tone trying to hide the anger that could so easily be surfaced. Seb decided the best way to access it would be to act blasé about the whole thing. So he did. 

“Nope. It was always a plan. I’ve been planning it since… Shit, yeah, since Spain,” Seb said in a nonchalant tone. He paused momentarily before he smirked and added: “That was Fernando’s last win,” in a cheery, nostalgic voice. 

“Explain.” Mark said through a locked jaw. Sebastian could tell he barely moved his mouth as he spoke. 

“You remember the day that Fernando took Jenson and yourself out to show you Spain. A few days before the race weekend started?” Seb said, coming back to his normal tone. 

“Yeah…” Mark replied, sceptically. 

“I told Dasha to suggest he took you.” There was a pause. 

“Why?”

“I needed her in the house alone.”

\- - - - - - - - -

SPAINISH GRAND PRIX, 8th MAY – BEFORE THE RACE WEEKEND

Seb was sitting in Fernando’s house. It was odd to be here; he had sort of come uninvited. He sat swinging his legs whilst he waited for Dasha to come down the stairs again. Yes, he had definitely made sure she was running late and wouldn’t have any time for de-tours. And he was ready to be the friend that could help her out. Or so she thought. He looked at his watch for the fifth time in the last five minutes. Yes, she was still running late. 

“Shit.” He heard softly drift through the open door that lead out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Seb smiled to himself as he heard Dasha’s heels clunk down the stairs. He wiped the smile off his face as she came into the kitchen. 

“You alright?” Seb asked, getting up with a frown on his face. Dasha was trying to put an earing in at the same time as throw things in her bag. It wasn’t going well. Dasha huffed as she dropped her bag to the floor, spilling its contexts everywhere. She didn’t care as she focused on getting her earing in her ear. Seb crouched down and scooped up her things, putting them back in her bag. She smiled as he handed it to her.

“Thanks,” She blushed, rooting around in the endless pit of material and retrieving some make-up. She placed the bag on the side and moved over to the toaster, using its reflective body as a mirror. “I’m running a little late,” She commented, drawing a black line under her eye. Seb was bemused by how much precision she used doing her make-up. He crossed over to the fridge. 

“That’s a little obvious,” Seb joked. Dasha sent him a dark look before returning to her make-up. “Do you need some water?” Dasha nodded, still doing her make-up and the German opened Fernando’s fridge, pulling out a bottle from the door. He shut the fridge and raked the door for the note he had seen earlier. The yellow post it with Fernando’s scruffy handwriting. The small ‘x’ on the bottom. He found it and pulled it off the fridge. 

“What’s this?” Seb asked, turning to face Dasha. He kept his eyes on the yellow note with todays date on it as he held it out towards her. She looked at it, frowning, before the realisation of what the note entailed spread onto her face. 

“Fuck.” She muttered under head breath. Seb didn’t think he’d ever heard he say the word before. “That’s just fucking great.” She continued to herself, throwing her make-up in her bag absent-mindedly. “Well done, Dasha. One thing you had to fucking remember.” Seb caught her shoulder and stopped her from pacing.

“What’s wrong? What did you forget?” Seb asked, feinting worry. He already knew what she had forgotten. It was he who had hid the note on the fridge, out of sight. 

“I was supposed to pick something up today, and now I’ve got no time. Fuck! This is an important shoot! Nano got it for me. They’ve arranged the whole thing around the Grand Prix! Why did I have to forget?”

“It’s alright, Dasha,” Seb started, pulling her into a hug and rubbing circles on her back. “What is it? What is it you needed to pick up? Was it something for Fernando?”

“No. It’s for me. It runs out today. I need the new packet.”

“New packet of what?” There was a pause before Dasha gave the words that were music to Seb’s ears. 

“…My pill. My birth control pill. I’m so fucking stupid!” Dasha pushed out of Seb’s grip. She dabbed her fingers under her eyes to prevent her make-up from running. 

“Alright. We can fix this. We can sort it out.”

“How?” Dasha said in a panicked tone. Seb looked at his watch.

“How much time before you need to be at your shoot?” he asked. Dasha checked the clock on the cooker. 

“Half and hour. It takes twenty minutes to get there. I’ve got no time for a de-tour….”

“Alright. Calm down. Now, where were you picking them up from?” Seb asked, rubbing Dasha’s arms.

“What does that matter?”

“I’m going to get them for you.” Dasha blinked. 

“What?”

“I’ll pick them up for you. I’ll drop you at your shoot, pick them up and drop them back here.” Dasha pulled him into a hug and he smiled into her hair. 

“Thank you, Seb,” Dasha sighed, gripping tighter. 

“Hey, it’s my pleasure.” Seb replied sincerely. Dasha took the yellow note out of his hand and scribbled the address on the back of it. After that was done she wrote a more formal note letting the pharmacy know Seb would be collecting her pills on her behalf. With the two notes stashed happily in his pocket they climbed into Seb’s hire car and headed off to Dasha’s shoot. 

\- - -

Sebastian returned to his hotel after having picked up Dasha’s pills. He still had her pills in his back pocket. Once safely inside his room, he opened the box and tipped the three trays of month long pills out onto his bed. With the real pills now out of the box, Seb got the placebo pills he had brought with him out of his bag and put them in the real box. The real pills were stashed in the bottom of his bag to be disposed of at a later date. But there was a more pressing matter now. He had to get the fake pills back to Fernando’s house, using the key Dasha lent him to get in, put them away where she told him to and leave before Fernando returned home. His phone lit up and he read the notification that Mark had got a text message to his phone from Jenson. Seb opened it and read the message.

Very funny. Thank you for leaving me stranded. Now come and get me please. People are giving me funny looks. 

Sebastian didn’t have to wait long to get Mark’s reply. 

You’re the one who said you were bored of walking around Spain. :P 

Sebastian pictured Jenson waiting on the side of some road somewhere. It was a funny mental image. 

Just come back and get me. I know you’re cherishing some alone time with Fernando, but don’t let yourself hope again. 

Sebastian frowned at the message. What?

Jenson, I told you to drop that. It was a one off. I’m not stupid. I know who he’s with. I’m just his friend. 

Sebastian sat on the edge of his bed, confused but intrigued about the conversation he was reading.

Mark. I know you’re trying for more than that. You told me. 

Trying for more? No way.

I was drunk. I could have been saying anything. 

Sebastian suddenly felt he was on the verge of being handed gold dust. 

You told me you liked him ages ago, Mark. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. 

Mark liked Fernando?

We’re coming to get you. 

The texting stopped there and Seb returned to the matter in hand. He picked up his car keys and the key for Fernando’s house. He gave himself half an hour. 

\- - - - - - - - -

“So that’s how you found out.” Mark said in disbelief. Sebastian sighed. 

“You told me in 2010, after Abu Dhabi, that you were gay. You happily forgot to mention that to me.”

“You can fucking see why considering what you’ve done with everything else I’ve ever told you.”

“Well, fine. That is how I found out you liked Fernando. It changed my plan a little, but I’d already got the initial one rolling. There was no point in pulling out now.”

“But Fernando won in Spain. Why are you telling me about this?”

“You wanted to know from the start?”

“Yes but he and Dasha probably… You know…” Mark swallowed, not wanting to say the words out loud. “…Celebrated his win,” Sebastian smiled at Mark’s uncomfortableness. 

“Now that’s where you’re wrong.” Dasha had told Sebastian about the horror that was the Sunday evening after Fernando’s last win of 2013. His little plan had worked, initially. He knew then he just had to keep it going. 

“But I suppose you don’t have a clue and can’t explain that one?” Mark asked in an irritated tone. 

“I can tell you. Dasha doesn’t miss any details.”

\- - - - - - - - -

SPANISH GRAND PRIX, 12th MAY – RACE SUNDAY

Dasha had a tight grip on Fernando’s arm. She was giddy on his victory, high on his happiness. And she couldn’t wait to celebrate it with him. She nuzzled into his neck as he unlocked the door of his house. 

“And it was amazing, how you came from fifth to first! I was on the edge of my seat!” Dasha smiled as they walked in. Fernando moved from her grip and into the kitchen. 

“Yeah? I’m glad you had fun,” Fernando said in a tired voice. Dasha frowned at him for a second, but decided his tiredness was due to an exerting race. 

“It was just fantastic to see you win. And in front of your home crowd. That must have felt like flying.”

“It was a pretty good feeling,” Fernando sighed. He had turned his back to Dasha and was flicking through some enveloped. She frowned at him, noticing the tense posture of his back. 

“You OK?” She asked tenderly. 

“Fine.” His voice became a little clipped and Dasha frowned deeper. She stepped forwards and placed a hand on his shoulder. As soon as her hand touched him he moved away, like a reflex. He left the post and headed to the fridge. 

“You’re not. What’s wrong?” She asked, folding her arms. He opened the fridge door and pulled out a small bottle of cool water. He didn’t look at her. 

“Nothing.” Fernando said, taking a swing and keeping his eyes looking into the fridge. Dasha moved across the room and shut the door, making Fernando look at her. 

“You won today. I thought you would be happy…” Dasha mused. She could suddenly see an anger in Fernando’s eyes that worried her. 

“Probably would have been. If you hadn’t handed out my house key.” Fernando stated, not moving. Dasha blinked. 

“What?” Fernando rolled his eyes and pulled his phone out of his pocket. After a moment of waiting, he turned it around to show Dasha an image. Her stomach dropped to the floor. She had thought she had been home first. Fernando must have got home and then gone for a run. But he had seen it. He knew Sebastian had been there. The image showed a picture of Dasha’s new birth pill box sitting on the counter with Dasha’s key and a yellow note that read “I’ve set up a three month delivery just in case you run late again. Don’t worry, I’m always here if you need help x”. Dasha swallowed and couldn’t bring her eyes to meet Fernando’s.

“So if you’re still confused about why I’m annoyed, Dash, it’s because you gave none other than Sebastian fucking Vettel my house key.”

“He was helping me out,” Dasha murmured. Fernando moved away from her. He knew he shouldn’t be angry with her, but she had done something so stupid. How could he trust she wasn’t going to hand it out to everyone in the paddock? He was probably being a bit rash, but he was annoyed. It felt like he had retired from the race, not just won it. 

“I don’t really give a shit, Dash. He could have come in here and got anything. I have Ferrari data in this house. Did that ever cross your mind?”

“He wouldn’t do anything like that. He just needed the key to get in the house and drop them off.”

“So you can promise me that he didn’t touch anything else in this house. Didn’t have a look around in cupboards and drawers. Just came in, put your stuff down and left?” Fernando asked with his finger poised above his phone screen. Dasha had a horrible feeling that he had another photo that would contradict her if she said yes. And to be honest she couldn’t say yes; she didn’t know if Seb had or hadn’t. She wanted to believe he hadn’t…

“No,” She muttered looking at the floor. 

“Good.” Fernando said sarcastically before his tone turned serious again. “Because he now knows some pretty private shit about us, Dash, and I’m not sure how comfortable I am about that,” 

“I don’t care.” Dasha said, anger bubbling inside her. Fernando, who had been looking out the window, turned to face her with a frown. 

“You don’t care he knows private stuff about us?” Dasha found some courage to look up at Fernando. 

“No. It’s my business and who I decide to tell is my choice. So I don’t care if you’re not comfortable about it because he was here and helped me. A lot more than I can say about you,” 

“You told me to take the guys out and show them Spain. That was your idea! You can’t throw it back in my face now, you told me to go. If you wanted me to stick around the house and help you then telling me to go out with my friends wasn’t very clever!” His anger was clear now. But it had been Seb’s idea. Seb had mentioned that Mark barely knew his way around this part of Spain and Dasha had suggested Fernando take him. So maybe not entirely Seb’s idea, but she held her tongue; she thought that mentioning Seb right now would not help in the slightest. 

“Well I’m glad we’re being mature about this. Not just passing the blame.” Dasha spat, not sure where she was going with this conversation. She wanted Fernando to be happy. This was a day that should be celebrated, not argued on. 

“If you’re going to try and make me feel bad for doing something you suggested then I can’t talk to you about this,” Fernando said, heading out of the kitchen. Dasha followed him out and lingered in the doorway, watching his retreating figure climb the stairs. 

“I’m glad we talk about our problems, Fernando. It’s good to get them out in the air!” She yelled sarcastically after him, slamming the kitchen door and taking a seat heavily on the sofa. She sat for about half an hour making herself feel worse and worse. It had been her fault that Fernando was annoyed and she should have accepted that. Not thrown things in his face and try and make him accept the blame. She had voided his trust. She had given someone a key to his house without his permission. That was wrong. 

She got herself up and headed up the stairs with the intention of finding Fernando and apologising. She climbed the stairs after leaving her heels at the bottom and moved gently towards their room. When she opened the door and found it empty, she frowned. Moving across the landing, she heard Fernando’s muffled voice coming from his study. She smiled slightly as she crossed over to the closed door, but stopped a little short, picking up on his side of a phone conversation. 

“You think I’m over reacting?” Fernando said in an angry tone. It had been half an hour and he still hadn’t calmed down. Dasha swallowed. “She let him in my fucking house! And not just anyone, your fucking teammate!” Dasha worked out Fernando was talking to Mark. Of course Fernando was talking to Mark. Fernando was always talking to Mark. Dasha frowned. “Yeah, well you know better than anyone what he’s like…. You saw what he did over Christmas 2010….. Mark, he made our lives hell! He twisted your words and told the fucking press... I don’t trust him…. Not now not ever…. Well, yeah, but…. Mark. Don’t be stupid…. I know it’s just she doesn’t think! Maybe he didn’t look through all my stuff and maybe he did just come in and leave her shit on the side but that’s not the point… She just handed out my house key without even thinking or asking... What…? You want to go for a drink....? Don’t see why not…. With everyone? As long as I don’t see Sebastian… Alright…. Ok, I’ll see you later…” Dasha moved back from the door as she saw the handle turn. Fernando looked at her briefly before pushing past her. “I’m going out.”

“Where?” Dasha asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Mark invited me for a drink. Apparently Sebastian is trying to get all the drivers together,” Fernando said, pulling on his jacket. Dasha folded her arms. 

“I don’t want you to go.” She said stubbornly. Fernando looked at her, stopping halfway through pulling on his jacket. 

“Tough shit. I’m going,” Fernando finished pulling on his jacket and walked down the stairs. Dasha followed him. 

“I don’t trust Mark.” Fernando turned and looked up at her from the bottom of the stairs. His frown turned into an annoyed look as he realised she had over heard his call. 

“You know I went in there for a reason. I didn’t want you to hear.”

“You don’t trust Seb, I don’t trust Mark,” Dasha shrugged. “What are you going to do now?” Fernando matched her shrug as he pulled on his shoes. 

“Go out.”

“Even though I don’t want you to?”

“I don’t think you quite understood what you did, Dash.” Fernando said, untucking the collar of his jacket. 

“But you would give your house key to Mark?”

“I trust Mark.”

“I trust Seb!”

“I don’t and it’s my house.” Fernando glared at her as she exasperated angrily. 

“Go and have fun, Fernando. Don’t worry that your girlfriend who loves you wants to be happy for you and celebrate your win at you fucking home Grand Prix.” Fernando picked up his keys and put them in his pocket, resting on hand on the front door handle before he turned back to Dasha. 

“If I can’t stand to be around you at the moment, Dash, not a lot of celebrating would be happening,” Fernando spat and with one fluid movement he opened the door and disappeared. Dasha sat on the step she had been standing on and frowned at herself. That really wasn’t how she wanted the evening to end. 

\- - - - - - - - -

“That was the start of me planting seeds of doubt in Dasha’s head and getting you involved.” Seb said, lying back on his bed. He looked at the clock and read it was quarter to three. He was so tired, but it appeared Mark wanted every detail. 

“That was the first time you tried to set up a fake ‘Driver’s Drinks’?” Mark queried. 

“Yeah. Well, a Fernando-and-you-but-let’s-try-and-disguise-this drink.” Sebastian corrected. Mark gritted his teeth. 

“Carry on.”

\- - - - - - - - -

MONACO GRAND PRIX, 24th MAY – PRACTICE ONE

Seb had just climbed out of his car after completing a run. It had been good; he had come in to look over the data, plan what to do in practice two. He didn’t know whether he would go out for another run in this session. With the tyres acting spontaneously it was key that they had enough left for the race. Saving tyres was suddenly very important. Sebastian pulled off his helmet and unplugged his hands free. He passed his bandana and helmet to Heikki, crossing the garage. It was as he crossed and gave a fleeting look to the pit wall that he saw her, standing along. Without saying a thing he began to head across to her. Heikki caught his arm. 

“Where are you going?” Heikki asked innocently. Seb hadn’t yet got round to telling Heikki of his plan. He knew he would have to eventually; he would need his help. But not yet. 

“See Christian,” Seb lied and Heikki let him go. As Seb crossed the pit lane he knew Heikki was watching him. And he knew Heikki would ask him to explain when he got back to the garage. He would cross that bridge when he came to it. Dasha was standing between the Ferrari and Red Bull pit walls and as Seb approached he noticed her sigh deeply. Was she upset? The cars were still flying passed on the circuit when Seb stopped beside her. She had dark sunglasses on and didn’t turn to face Seb when he stood next to her. He mirrored her position leaning on the wall.

“Didn’t know you were allowed out,” Sebastian joked, indicating the Ferrari garage with his thumb. Dasha sighed. “Or…Ok…” Sebastian placed a hand on Dasha’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

“It’s nothing. I’m just… It’s nothing,” Dasha said, following the red Ferrari that whizzed past. Her eyes rested on Seb as it hurled on. 

“It is.” Seb said, dropping his hand from Dasha. “Just say. I won’t think you’re stupid. You can trust me.”

“It’s Mark.” Dasha said, turning back to the racetrack. Four more cars flew past drowning out Seb’s response. 

“Mark?” Dasha turned just her head to Seb, frowning. 

“What? I can’t hear you?” Seb waited for the cars to drive past before he asked again. He knew Mark liked Fernando, but Dasha couldn’t. And Mark wasn’t going to do anything about it. Not without a significant amount of persuasion. Seb had it all planned. All in due time. 

“Mark? What has Mark done?”

“He’s… This is going to sound so stupid.” Dasha sighed. 

“Just tell me.” Seb smiled. Dasha sighed again and pushed her sunglasses off her head. 

“He’s very close to Fernando and I found an article on him from 2010 and it worried me.” Dasha said, not pausing for breath. 

“Sorry?” Seb played the innocent. He wanted to know exactly what Dasha had found because he needed to know exactly how much room he had to play with. How much he could give without revealing something new. How far through his plan this put him.

“I found an article.” Dasha sighed, looking at her hands. 

“How? What on?”

“After Fernando told me it was just Mark and him out on that drink in Spain, I got sceptical. They have always been really close, and I felt like I didn’t know him. So I looked him up on the internet….”

“And?”

“I found a news story from 2010… And I read it. Around the time of Fernando’s divorce announcement.” Seb knew she was talking about the article he had helped instigate. About Mark coming out and his supposed feelings for Fernando. When Seb had initially anonymously dropped the hint to the press he had no idea how true his words were. He was just trying to make it awkward between Mark and Fernando, try and take something else away from the Spaniard. 

“Right.” Sebastian said in a knowing tone. Dasha looked up at him in disbelief.

“You knew?” Her eyes were wide. Seb didn’t see any reason to withhold the information that Mark liked Fernando from her, if anything it could make any action Mark made look to have a double meaning. Seb nodded. “You knew and you never told me? Great kind of friend you are!” Her sudden anger confused Seb a little, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Rob Smedley looking over at the commotion of her sudden raised voice. He caught Dasha’s elbow and, checking no one was coming, crossed the pit lane so they were standing outside the garages. As he stopped and turned to face her he saw Rob moving over to Andrea. That might not be helpful. 

“Yes. I knew. But no one else does so you have to be quiet.” Seb said frantically, lowering his voice. Standing so close to his own garage he could feel the presence of someone else standing close behind him. He assumed it was Heikki. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. How could you not tell me?” Dasha’s anger was still clear and she folded her arms. 

“I didn’t want you to worry. Fernando’s with you and Mark won’t do anything about his feelings,” Dasha scoffed. “He has been feeling like this for the last three years if he was going to do anything about it he had a chance when Fernando was single. Before you. He won’t try anything.” Dasha sighed, feeling stupid again. 

“Sorry,” She muttered. Seb pulled her into a hug. 

“Don’t worry about it. Nothing will happen.” Seb let her go and she smiled thankfully at him. He kept one hand on her arm. “Just focus on supporting Fernando. Hope he has a good race then you can celebrate,” Seb said, raising his eyebrows to imply what he really meant. Dasha blushed at his comment. 

“Not this weekend.” Dasha muttered. Seb frowned. 

“What do you mean?” Seb asked, though he thought he had a pretty good feeling he knew what she meant. It had been two weeks – or there about – since he had swapped her birth control pill for placebos. She confirmed his suspicion. 

“I’m… Err…” Dasha started, blushing a deeper red. “Its that time of the month.” Sebastian pretended to feel as uncomfortable about the situation as she did. 

“Oh…” He said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and letting his hand slid from Dasha’s arm. He was happy he had got the date right, so he was really looking at the floor to hide his smile. 

“But I still hope he will do well.” Dasha smiled, bringing the conversation to a less awkward level. 

“The car looks like it’s got some pace,” Seb said, not knowing whether it was a lie or not. It made Dasha smile wider. 

“Seb?” A voice came from behind the German and he turned to see Heikki leaning against the opening of his garage with his arms folded. Seb blushed a little. “Can I have a word?” 

“Sorry.” Dasha said, believing she had dragged Sebastian away from something important. She touched his arm gently. “You go. I should get back inside,” She smiled, indicating to Fernando’s garage with her thumb and then disappeared into the sea of red. Seb turned to Heikki who straightened up. 

“That wasn’t Christian.” Heikki said with his arms still folded. Seb shrugged and walked past him. Heikki followed the German with his eyes until he had to turn around to follow him. He walked to the back of the garage in his wake, letting his arms fold to his sides. “Seb, what are you-?”

“-Now’s not the time to explain.” Seb said, looking over to his trainer. Heikki went to argue, but seeing the look in Seb’s eyes he knew not to push it. Seb would tell him when the time was right. 

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with your racing… Marko and Horner will kill me,” Heikki said, keeping the serious tone he had adopted. Seb placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled. 

“It’s alright, Heikki. I’ll protect you,” Seb joked before he settled himself in his seat and drank from his bottle. Rocky patted Heikki’s shoulder in a manner of thanks as he passed with a data package, striking up a conversation with Seb. Seb was momentarily distracted as Mark was pushed into the garage and climbed out of his car, pulling off his helmet. Mark looked up to see Seb looking at him and smiled. The German smiled back, raising the hand that was not holding his drink. 

Oh Mark, If only you knew what I had in store for you. 

\- - - - - - - - -

MONACO GRAND PRIX, 26th MAY – RACE SUNDAY 

Dasha had been all over Fernando all weekend. And Seb knew it was down to her protective instincts, to let everyone know that Fernando was taken. Her actions were especially directed at a certain Australian. Every time Mark had been seen with Fernando, Dasha would pull him close and bring their lips together. It didn’t faze Mark though; he had been pretending to be blasé for the passed three years, he had had enough practice. But now Seb knew of his feelings for the Spaniard he could detect the sadness in his eyes. The jealousy that made him turn away or make a joke about getting a room. These jokes were normally followed by a joke from the Spaniard about Mark not being able to get any, which Mark followed with a forced laugh. 

The race had definitely not gone well for Fernando though. He finished in seventh and was still angry he had had to give the position to Sergio because – in his opinion – he had avoided a collision. Seb didn’t care; with Fernando finishing poorly it made the title seem that much closer. Number four. That was something he wanted pretty badly. It was as they were walking off the podium that Seb caught Mark’s arm. Nico was hogging the attention because he had won, just like his father. Seb had taken his opportunity to talk to his teammate whilst the press were distracted somewhere else. 

“Mark,” Seb said, catching the Australian’s arm. He could still sense a little bit of hostility in his teammate. He was obviously still a little annoyed about the Malaysia incident. But Mark smiled at him none the less. 

“Alright mate,” Mark said, pulling free of Seb’s hold. 

“I wanted to-”

“-Nice race today. Nice to be on the podium together again.” Mark sighed and Seb was sure there was a sarcastic meaning to his words. He let it slide. 

“Yeah, it was. Mark, I thought you might-”

“-Good to collectively bring back some points for the team. The points we deserved,” The sarcasm in Mark’s voice was a little clearer now. Seb gave him a sceptically look and folded his arms. 

“Are you trying to say something? Just say it if you are. I cannot decode your subtle messages.” Mark rolled his eyes before beginning his walk away from the podium again. Seb fell into step beside him. 

“What was it you wanted,” Mark said in a force, polite tone. 

“Trying to get everyone together for a post-race drink,” Seb shrugged. Mark turned to face him, stopping walking. 

“Because the last one went so well,” Mark said sarcastically. 

“It’s not my fault everyone was busy…”

“Apart from Fernando and myself,” Mark added, looking down at his teammate. 

“Didn’t think you would have minded that,” Seb muttered lowly to himself.

“Huh?”

“Talking to myself,” Seb said innocently. Mark gave him a sceptical look before he continued walking with Seb beside him. 

“Well I don’t think Fernando will be up for drinking with the others tonight,” Mark said darkly. 

“Then don’t take him with the others,” Mark stopped again. Sebastian got tired of his stopping and starting. He exasperated but Mark ignored it. 

“What?” 

“Just take him for a drink on your own, let him vent. I’m sure he will be happy to blow off some steam after today,” Mark looked at the floor, thrusting his hands into his pockets and scuffing his feet across the floor. 

“He’s got Dasha to vent to…” Mark said, trying – but failing – to hide the jealousy in his voice. 

“He won’t vent to Dasha. She won’t understand, empathies… I reckon he would prefer to vent to you over a nice cold…” Seb let his voice trail off to let Mark finish the sentence.

“Yeah, Fernando’s not a fan of beer. He tends not to drink much.” Mark said, looking back up from the floor. Seb put his hand on Mark’s shoulder and gave him a sympathetic look. 

“Just… Think about it. I’m sure he would appreciate it as much as you would,” Seb smiled, giving Mark a pat on the shoulder and then walked off on his own, leaving the Australian to watch his retreating back, confused over his last statement. 

\- - -

Seb hadn’t been back at the hotel long when Dasha’s text came through. And it made him smile for two reasons. One, he would get to be the supporting friend and build her trust in him some more. And secondly, it meant his plan was working. He now had Dasha worrying and mastered the ability to plant an idea in Mark’s head. It was going pretty well:

He has gone out for a drink with Mark again. AGAIN. He did this after Spain as well! Why can’t he stay here with me? Why does he have to go off drinking with Mark? 

Seb smiled as he stretched his fingers out ready to type a reply. 

\- - - - - - - - -

“You don’t have to remind me of conversations we had, Seb. I do remember them.” Mark said angrily on the other end of the phone. Seb crossed the room to get himself a glass of water. He needed to stay awake. He lifted the full glass towards his lips. 

“I needed to give you context. If I didn’t repeat it then you would have asked me to explain the context. It is the easiest way.” Seb took a mouthful of water. 

“So great. So far, you’ve hacked my phone – god knows when-”

“-End of last season.” Seb added before taking another mouthful of water. 

“Whatever. You’ve hacked my phone, confused Dasha with lies and started to have a go at exposing some feelings I have that I didn’t even know you knew about?”

“All before you announced your retirement. Yeah, that sounds right.” Seb said casually, putting the glass down and rubbing his eyes. He was so tired. He sat on the desk chair and began spinning slightly on it to keep himself awake. 

“And at no point you realise how much of a cunt you are being?” Mark growled. Seb felt that happy buzz he got when he got under Mark’s skin. He was going to miss that feeling next year. He fought the smile off his face. 

“Oi! Language.” Seb said. When Mark didn’t reply Seb continued, assuming the Australian had rolled his eyes. “Do you want me to finish the story? I don’t have to. I could just go to sleep. Then you’ll never know how the two ends add up.” Seb teased down the end of the line. 

“What come next then? Did you spike my drink so I revealed everything to you?”

“Aww, Mark. Don’t tell me you forgot the night you told me about Fernando. I would be sad if you did. It was a good night.” Seb mused, smiling slightly at the memory.

“I was pissed.” Mark stated darkly. 

“We’ll relive that later.” Seb said as he waved his hand in the air, brushing away the comment. “After Monaco, Dasha was really starting to worry about your closeness to Fernando.”

“Right?”

“So your announcement at Silverstone calmed her down a bit. She thought she just had to get herself through the year and it wouldn’t matter anymore. I had to make sure she didn’t loose her fear…”

\- - - - - - - - -

BRITISH GRAND PRIX, 27th JUNE – THRUSDAY PRESS DAY 

Seb hadn’t been expecting it. None of them had been expecting it. Apart from maybe Fernando. Maybe Fernando knew something about it. But no one else was ready to hear that Mark was leaving the sport at the end of the year to race for Porsche in the World Endurance Championship. Everyone was shocked. The heads at Red Bull were angry Mark hadn’t spoken to them about his plan. That had been an interesting day at the office. A lot of shouting and yelling. Seb had just shut himself in his new office he had requested, just a little way down the corridor from the simulator. He had focused on constructing the charts and tables he was making and ignoring the yells. They would be very important for the next few months. 

But Seb really couldn’t believe Mark was retiring. He was expecting him to move teams, yes, but retire? Sebastian knew he was still annoyed at the Malaysia incident, but that was enough to make him retire? Had he really pushed Mark that far? He wondered, vaguely, if the Australian was retiring because he wasn’t sure how much more he could take from Seb. Hanging on the edge in a precautious manner, too easy for him to be pushed into the unknown. Seb liked the thought that he had pushed Mark beyond the boundaries the Australian himself didn’t even know. He held onto that thought, smiling. 

“Hey… You’re smiling?” Heikki questioned him as he found him in his cool down room. Seb abruptly whipped his smile from his face but it was too late. Heikki closed the door behind him and moved into the room, folding his arms. “I don’t want any shit now, Seb. Tell me straight. What the hell are you up to?” Heikki knew him well, too well in Seb’s opinion. But he knew he would have to explain to Heikki at some point. Heikki could be in the garage when Seb wasn’t. When Mark wasn’t. It would be useful to have him on side. Seb explained to Heikki everything he had already done and what he planned to do next. Heikki gave him a look of being impressed but also being worried. He wasn’t sure whether Heikki agreed with what he was doing or not, but the Finn remained expressionless and Seb was unable to read what he was thinking. Maybe all Finn’s were unreadable like that. Going from the evidence that was presented from Kimi and Heikki he had to draw that conclusion. 

“And you’re still finding time to lead the championship through all this?” Heikki asked. Seb nodded. 

“I think it keeps me focused,” Seb shrugged. With one simple definitive nod, Heikki agreed to help. Seb smiled. Heikki was on his side. Heikki was going to help. Heikki agreed on helping him ruin Fernando Alonso. 

\- - -

“Dasha, don’t let yourself hope that. They’ve been close for twelve years, they won’t just let that go.” Seb sighed. He was getting desperate. He needed Dasha to remain panicked. He needed her to keep coming to him every time Fernando did something she didn’t like. Like hang out with Mark. If she thought that there was nothing to worry about anymore the plan was ruined. He needed her to stay panicked. 

“But they will grow apart, Seb. They can’t stay that close if they are not with each other all the time,” Dasha’s voice was gleeful on the other end of the phone. He needed to stop this before it got out of hand, before she got complacent and didn’t need him any more. He sighed, setting his mind on producing a lie that would obliterate any hope she had. 

“What if his retirement is a rouse?” Seb said, trying to make his words sound pained. There was a pause. 

“What do you mean?” Dasha said, that tone that had become common in her voice when she was talking to Seb back again. Panic. Seb fought back a smile. 

“What if he is giving himself to the end of the season to tell Fernando how he feels and then thinks that because they won’t both be high key figures a relationship can be easier for them.” The pause was longer this time. Dasha’s voice was full of overflowing emotion when she spoke next. She was worried, she was scared. She was panicking. 

“But you said he wouldn’t do that. You said, Seb. You told me Mark knew and he respected that.”

“Dasha, I had no idea he was going to retire. I don’t know what his incentives are anymore.”

“But you said-!”

“-Tell me where Fernando is right now.” Seb said, getting bored of her high-pitched worries. He rubbed his temples as he waited for her to speak.

“Out.” She said, though her voice was already faltering, confirming to Seb where Fernando was. 

“Where?” Another pause. 

“With Mark.” Seb waited a moment to let the words sink in. “They just went for a drink.”

“And in Spain and Monaco.”

“Fernando said that it was all the drivers. All the drivers had gone. Or been invited. But none of them had turned up.”

“And maybe Mark is saying things to him he can’t repeat.” Seb said, opening his eyes. “Look, don’t let this hang over your head, alright. I’m just guessing. For all I know I could be wrong. I don’t want you to worry about this-”

“-I’m not.” Dasha clearly lied. 

“You are… Shit. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, Seb, I’m glad you told me. I’d prefer to know.”

“But now you’re worrying and it’s probably unnecessary…” Seb feigned being worried when really he was joyous. 

“I’m not. Thank you for telling me. Don’t not tell me anything. If you see something fishy then I want you to tell me. OK?”

“OK… As long as you promise not to let it get to you,”

“I can’t promise, but I will try my best.”

“Then I guess that is all I can ask for.” Seb sighed, falling back on his bed. They said good night and Seb dropped his phone beside him on the bed, finally letting a triumphant smile spread across his face. He was back on schedule.

\- - - - - - - - -

“So you just… Made something up?” Mark was trying to keep control of his voice but it was clear he was struggling. 

“I had to keep her worried. If she thought she was clear of any problems then my plan was ruined. Her paranoia was key to my success.”

“So, at the expense of me and my friendship with Dasha you just lied?”

“It’s easier than you think.”

“You would know,” Mark muttered sarcastically. There was a silence for a little while.

“Where are you?” Seb asked curiously. The question caught Mark a little off guard. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Location. I know you flew to England, but I’m guessing you are not at yours. If you were you wouldn’t be holding back on how annoyed you are,”

“Like fuck I’d tell you. Just one thing you won’t be able to find out.” There was another short pause. “Just one thing before we continue.” Seb stopped spinning on his chair and gripped the desk. He rolled his eyes. 

“Shoot.” He said, looking over to the clock on the bedside table. Twenty to five in the morning. He was never going to get any sleep. 

“How the fuck did you get in my house?”

“Like I said, Mark, it was useful having Heikki to help out.” Another pause. 

“I don’t understand.”

“He took your keys whilst you were out on track and got me one cut.” Seb said in a disregarding tone. Mark was gobsmacked. 

“You-?” 

“-Don’t worry, I don’t have it any more. Your boyfriend- oops. Ex-boyfriend took it when he cleared out the rest of the evidence I had.” Seb had to wait a few minutes before Mark replied. His eyes fell longingly to his bed. The bed he wouldn’t sleep in. Seb sighed. 

“Wait… Fernando came and got all of the evidence?” Mark said slowly.

“Yes. He came in and demanded that I hand it all over. And any back-ups. You obviously explained to him how I work,”

“Once or twice… When was this?” Mark was still shocked. 

“Earlier today. We will get there. Can I continue?” The silence that followed gave Seb the indication he could carry on. His eyes fell on the clock again before resting on the bed. He would make this quick. 

\- - - - - - - - -

BELIGUM GRAND PRIX, 24th AUGUST – SATURADY QUALIFYING

It was a lapse in excitement between the first and second qualifying sessions. Seb was sitting on the counter at the side of his garage, swinging his legs and drinking from his bottle. Marussia had pulled something out of the bag and got themselves into Q2 but that wasn’t of any interest to Seb. Rocky had come over and given him some data but now he was just waiting again. Waiting to be called to go out. He hated the waiting. 

He heard the buzz of his phone on the counter side and looked up at Heikki. Heikki nodded and looked back down at the data he was going through. Seb hopped off the side and retrieved his phone, leaning against the back wall as he unlocked it, reading the new message. 

The three-month placebo package has been delivered to Miss Kapustina. She sends her thanks. 

Perfect. Three months left. His plan was truly in action. He smiled putting his phone back where he found it and retook his place sitting on the counter. Heikki didn’t remove his eyes from the data in his hands, but he could see the energetic leg swings in his peripheral vision. 

“Happy?” Heikki asked, crossing something out and writing a note next to it. 

“Very.” Seb smiled. 

“Alright. Go out there and get pole then,” Heikki said, giving Seb a pat of the shoulder as he put the data down. Seb just smirked at him as he drunk from his bottle. 

\- - - - - - - - -

“Why does it matter to me that you gave Dasha more fake pills?” Mark asked, confused. Seb rolled his eyes. 

“Because now you know why she got pregnant.” There was a pause.

“Right.” Mark said, still confused. “I couldn’t have just guessed?”

“You told me you wanted to know everything,” Seb commented, rubbing his free hand across his face in a tired fashion. 

“So when did Heikki take my key?” Mark cut in. Seb could tell he was more interested about that than whether or not Dasha got her fake pills. 

“Not yet.” Seb yawned. 

“Then when?”

“We’ll get there!” Seb was tired and running out of patience. Mark was quiet for a while. 

“So what happened next then? Will it actually interest me or can you skip it?”

“Oh no,” Seb smiled. “I couldn’t skip this bit,”

“Right.” Seb was sure he heard Mark try to stifle a yawn. “Go on then.”

“My favourite part,” Seb said, leaning back in his chair happily. 

“Why does that fact worry me?”

\- - - - - - - - -

ITALIAN GRAND PRIX, 8th SEPTEMBER – RACE SUNDAY 

Seb had won in front of the precious Tifosi and knocked their main man back further in the championship. If there was anything to be celebrating in the heart of Italy with Ferrari fans pouring from every crack, it was that. He happily sat himself between Christian and Adrian with a smile on his face, accepting the drink that was pushed into his hand. Mark was sitting opposite them very quietly and very solemnly. Seb had a feeling he knew why. 

“That was a great race today,” Christian said, lifting his glass. His eyes fell onto Mark. “From both of you.”

“Anything to help with the championship,” Mark muttered, drinking from his own glass. Christian and Adrian exchanged a look of concern. 

“Was nice to be up there together, even if they were not so happy to see me.” Seb smiled. He couldn’t help but love what he had done today. Even though they didn’t show it, it had dampened the Tifosi’s spirit. Even if they still got to see Fernando on the podium, it still wasn’t the top step. Seb smiled as he took a drink, catching Mark’s dark glare as he set the glass down. 

“Well, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thought. Just us. And we’re all proud of you both,” Adrian added, wrapping and arm around Seb’s shoulder. 

“They shouldn’t be allowed to boo you like that,” Christian said darkly. Adrian nodded as he continued. “It’s very un-sportingly. They should cheer you irrelevant.”

“But you won’t change them. Especially not here. They are Italian and very passionate. It’s a red suit on the top step or they’re not happy.” Seb said, looking over to Mark. Mark seemed to be deep in thought. Suddenly, and angrily, Mark raised his glass to his lips and finished it off.

“I’m getting another. Anyone else?” Mark said as he stood up. Seb nodded whilst the other two shook their heads. 

“That’s alright, Mark. We’ve got to go and help pack up,” Christian said as Mark crossed away from the table to get two more drinks. Seb followed him with his eyes and once he was out of ear shot Christian grabbed his arm, obtaining his attention. Seb’s smiled slid off his face a little at the worried look his team boss was giving him. “Find out what’s wrong with him. He came second today and he looks like he retired.” Christian pleaded. Seb nodded his head. Christian and Adrian departed with a wave good bye and left Seb on his own momentarily. Mark came back to the table and placed four new drinks on the table. 

“They’ve gone,” Seb said, taking in the four glasses as Mark sat down in front of him. 

“I know.” Mark said in a monosyllabic tone. Seb looked from the four glasses to Mark as Mark pushed one of them towards Seb. 

“Then why-?”

“-Can’t be arsed to keep getting up,” Mark said, downing the first glass before taking a hold of the second. Seb placed his hand on Mark’s. 

“Woah. Slow down.”

“We’re not on the race track now, Seb. You can’t tell me what to do.” Mark said. He lifted the second glass and drank half of it before putting it down and leaning towards Seb. “Tell me something.” Mark said in a pondering voice. 

“Anything in particular?” Seb said in a confused tone. He was genuinely worried about his teammate. Mark sent him a dark look and took another swig of his drink. 

“Why is Fernando Spanish?” Seb blinked, confused. 

“What?”

“Spanish. Why couldn’t he be British, or… German?” Seb gave Mark a look of complete confusion.

“I’ve got no idea what you are talking about,” Seb lied, taking another drink. He knew this was stemming off Mark’s feelings for Fernando, but in context he couldn’t understand what Mark was trying to say. 

“Of course you don’t…” Mark sighed sadly, finishing off his second pint and starting on the third. Seb just watched him in a bemused way. Was Mark trying to tell him something? Or had he really drunk too much to understand whom he was talking to? He suddenly sat forwards, startling Seb. 

“And why does he had to look so good in red?” Mark sighed angrily. 

“What are you saying, Mark?” Seb asked, putting his half empty glass down. Mark drained the rest of his, keeping his eyes on Seb. 

“Do you want another?” Mark asked, placing his third empty glass down on the table. Seb looked shocked and indicated to his still half full glass. The Australian got up and walked back over to the bar. Seb watched him go, still respectably walking in a straight line. He couldn’t understand why Mark was trying to drink himself under the table, but he was hoping that he would get some information out of him from his comatose state. Mark sat down heavily with two more glasses, which Seb frowned at. He didn’t ask because he knew Mark had got them both for himself. 

“What wrong with you today?” Seb asked in a concerned tone as Mark lifted the first pint to his lips. He was drinking slower now, and Seb noted this gratefully. Mark watched Seb closely as he put the glass down and swallowed, smacking his lips dramatically. 

“Today? Nothing.” Mark said, still watching Seb. Seb returned his gaze.

“Yes there is.”

“Why did it have to be something that was a problem today? Why couldn’t this be an on going problem?” Mark asked. Seb swallowed.

“Ok. So what is the problem?” Seb asked, sceptically. 

“You’re not helping.” Mark said in a matter-of-fact tone as he raised his glass to his lips again. Seb frowned. 

“I don’t understand,” 

“You make him sad which means he comes to me to talk and then I get my hopes up and then he returns to Dasha.” Mark said, blocking out the moments with his hands. His cheeks had become slightly flushed and his eyes were revealing his sadness. Seb almost felt sympathetic, but instead he just felt his teammate was being pathetic. He played on the sympathy, softening his voice. 

“You’re talking about Fernando?” Mark gave him a look. 

“Yes, Seb.” The Australian took another drink. Seb played up the innocent I-didn’t-know-that-this-is-new-information façade. 

“You like Fernando?” Seb said in a shocked tone. Mark nearly spat his drink across the table in desperation to quieten Seb. 

“And I really want you to yell that out loud in a pub in Monza, surrounded by his fans,” Mark said sarcastically, coughing and evening his breathing. 

“Sorry.” Seb said. Mark nodded. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. You won’t do anything even if I ask you. I just… I don’t know… Just wanted to talk about it…” Mark sighed. 

“With me?” Seb asked deliriously. There was no way Mark would seek him out to talk about this; he would have gone to Jenson. He went to Jenson before. Mark shrugged. 

“You’re here and have nothing to complain about. Thought you might listen to me. Not like I can go to who I normally talk to about my problems,” Mark said as he finished of his forth pint. He slid the empty glass in line with the others and brought the fifth one close to him, leaning close to the table. 

“Jenson?” Seb asked, but all that got him was a dark look from his teammate. 

“Fernando,” Mark said, taking the first drink from his new pint. Seb worried that Mark was going to get too drunk he wouldn’t be able to say the things Seb wanted him to tell him. 

“Mark, slow down.”

“Are we on a racetrack, Seb?” Seb was a little confused at his question. 

“No?”

“Then stop telling me what to do.” Mark deliberately took a long drink before setting the glass back on the table. Seb watched Mark curiously. 

“Why didn’t you go to Jenson about this? Why me?” Seb asked, turning his glass on the table. 

“I just said. I try and talk to Jenson and he goes on about his own shit. And I can’t go to Fernando. So I thought I would try you; you’ve got nothing to moan about.”

“So let me get this straight. You want to talk to me about your liking Fernando because you think I will listen?”

“It’s you, you like to know everything that’s happening in the paddock,” Mark commented and Seb had to agree. “So… Are you going to listen?” Mark asked. Seb could see he had drunk enough now to be able to talk and not worry about the circumstances. And Seb was more than happy to be the person he spoke to. Taking another drink, Seb nodded and listened to Mark talk about Fernando. Momentarily, he felt as if he had fallen into some playground chat with a girl who was talking about how desperate she was to be noticed by this one guy. Seb didn’t input into Mark’s speech, he just listened. Taking the information from his words that he could possibly use to his advantage. Because Mark was unknowingly giving Seb the last piece of the puzzle. Seb continuously fought back a smile; each time he thought he was going to let it slip he took a drink. Mark finished and stood up, indicating he didn’t want Seb’s opinion. 

“If you could leave me a note or something to let me know I told you that, I would appreciate it,” Mark said, giving Seb’s shoulder an appreciative squeeze as he headed out of the pub into the Italian night. Seb watched him go, smiling. Too good. This day had been too good. 

\- - - - - - - - -

“I thought I said I didn’t need to be reminded of our conversations. I do remember them.” Mark snarled down the phone. Seb was smiling radiantly at the memory. 

“Do you remember on the plane the next day when you came over and tried to tell me you were lying. That you had only said that stuff because you were drunk?” Seb’s laughter began to punctuate his words. “And then. In the airport. You saw him and then you blushed. And then I knew. And your face was a picture. Ahh, that was a funny day.” Seb laughed. 

“Great. I’m glad you found my problem funny,” Mark said in a bored tone.

“Wasn’t a problem for long, though, was it?” Seb teased. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mark lied. Seb rolled his eyes. 

“Korea?”

“Nothing happened in Korea,” Mark said questioningly. 

“Right.” Seb said. He could hear Mark waiting for him to elaborate.

“Ok then, what happened?”

“It was the beginning.”

\- - - - - - - - -

KOREAN GRAND PRIX, 6th OCTOBER – RACE SUNDAY 

“Seb, I’m telling you. He’s not here. He’s gone somewhere. He was really quiet and within himself. He left the track on his own. He didn’t even get in his car,” Dasha was pacing in front of Seb in his hotel room. From what Mark had told him about Fernando and how he felt Seb was about to get the ball rolling on the final phase of his plan. The bit he had to get involved in. Dasha was beyond being talked out of her worry that Mark was trying to steal Fernando which meant that she was telling Seb of more and more arguments they were having. More times Fernando had left her to go and find Mark. More opportunities for Seb to fill her with lies. And he knew they weren’t having sex. Dasha was too worried to try and set a mood. Maybe that was why Fernando was getting so frustrated. 

“Dasha, you’re over reacting,” Seb said looking at the floor. He was trying to give her the impression he wasn’t saying something, holding back some information. It worked. Dasha stopped in front of him and folded her arms. 

“Tell me.” Seb looked up at her with false, pained eyes. 

“Tell you what?” Seb tried to act innocent but Dasha’s worry was breaking him down. Or that was how he was acting. 

“What you’re not telling me. You know where he’s gone don’t you?” Seb dropped his head, looking away from her. 

“Yes. But they told me not to tell you.” Heikki had already sent Seb a photo of Fernando walking into a love hotel earlier that evening. He knew it would be sufficient evidence if Dasha didn’t believe him. 

“They?” Dasha’s voice broke on the small word. Seb sighed. 

“I don’t want to tell you.” 

“Please, Seb. I can’t deal with it anymore. Just tell me.” Dasha sat down next to Seb and put her head in her hands, covering her face. Seb was impressed by how far he had managed to twist her mind. 

“Ask.” Seb said in a small voice. Dasha looked up at him with a tear rolling down her cheek. 

“Whose they?” She said quietly. 

“Fernando and… Mark,” Seb looked away as if he didn’t want to tell her. He knew this was all a lie. Last time he’d seen Mark he was drinking in the hotel bar. 

“They’ve gone off together?” She seemed too accepting of this fact. Seb deviated. 

“No. They were meeting up. Mark planned something for him.” Dasha frowned. 

“What are you talking about?” Seb got up and picked up his tablet. His slid it unlocked and found a photo that had been taken at the Singapore Grand Prix. 

“Mark told me last race. He said Fernando had been complaining about you. Said you weren’t… Satisfying him…”

“No! That’s a lie. Well, not entirely, but you know what I’ve been going through! It’s his fault. If he didn’t go off with Mark every weekend-”

“-Dasha, Mark and he have been planning. For this weekend. Because of all the love hotels. It was the subtlest place Mark could get them both together. Fernando just left you at the track because he didn’t want you to know…” Seb found the photo of Fernando and his PR agent and showed it to Dasha. It was an entirely innocent photo, but with the context Seb had given it, it could have been seen as them privately scheming. Dasha took the tablet in her hands. 

“But you said Mark liked Fernando,” Her voice was breathy and she was trying to remain calm. 

“He’s hoping that this one off can lead to you two splitting up. He’s hoping to show Fernando an escape.” Seb lied. 

“Escape?”

“Dasha, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to be the one to tell you, but-”

“-He might not go through with it.” Dasha said, handing the tablet back to Seb. She didn’t want to see it anymore. 

“What?”

“He was really upset after the race. He might not go through with it,” Dasha strained a smile. “He might just be upstairs in our room.”

“He might be…” Seb said, even though he knew he wasn’t. Having Heikki to hand was very useful. As Dasha had been looking at the tablet he had read the message Heikki sent to him ten minutes earlier. Fernando had gone to Mark’s room. 

“I’ll go up and check.” Dasha said, heading for the door. 

“If he’s not?” Seb asked, turning to face her. She held one hand on the handle before turning back over her shoulder and looking at Seb. 

“I’ll wait.” Dasha said definitively.

“If you need me at any point tonight, Dasha, just come down. Whatever the hour,” Seb said with a small smile. With a small nod of her head she left the room. 

“Oh, sorry Heikki, he’s all yours,” Dasha smiled before disappearing down the corridor. Heikki walk into the room and looked at Seb. 

“More news?” Seb asked, exasperating and falling back on his bed. 

“Not yet, but I’ve got Rocky in the bar with a watch on Mark. He’s going to text when he leaves.” Heikki said, taking the desk chair and watching Seb. 

“Good.” Seb nodded. His plan had changed, but it had been necessary. Patience, Seb,  he cooed to himself. You’ll be glad you waited. 

\- - -

Three knocks. They were angry knocks. He had heard the yelling from upstairs and quickly wiped the smile from his face. He was truly unsurprised to open the door to a wrecked version of Dasha. He let her in without a word, giving a brief look to his teammates room. He let himself have a small smile before he closed the door and made himself sympathetic. 

It didn’t take long for her to fall into his arms. He held her close, rubbing her back soothingly. For a little while they were just quiet. Whatever way he went about it he had known the evening would end like this. When he did eventually give her reassuring words he made sure he spoke just loud enough so he knew Fernando would here him upstairs. It was important Fernando knew of his involvement. His distrust for Seb would push Dasha to get protective and spark worry in the Spaniard himself. A vicious circle. That was what he was setting up. Seb, in a very gentlemanly manner, let Dasha have his bed for the night and he took the sofa. He thought it was the most he could do considering he was ruining her relationship. Curling up on the sofa, he let himself smile at his success. 

\- - -

He finished his breakfast confused as to whether he should be happy or annoyed. He couldn’t read how Fernando had been feeling, but he did catch him limping. That was at least something. His physical pain. Seb knew he had done that. He drained his coffee mug and ate a slice of toast; he needed to plan his next step now his initial plan changed. He knew the story of Mark and Fernando planning an affair wouldn’t last long, so he would have to revert to his original plan. Seb got up and smiled at the waitress who had seated him as he departed. 

\- - - - - - - - -

“You told her we were planning an affair?” Mark couldn’t really believe what he had heard. 

“To be honest, that is sort of what you did. In the end.”

“Do you know how fucking irrelevant that is?” Mark’s anger was very clear and Seb was happy this was a conversation over the phone rather than face to face. He was sure he would have a few bruises if the Australian were in the room with him. 

“Actually, it’s very relevant.” Seb said. There was a pause.

“So what comes next? You tell her we were planning to have her assassinated?”

“No. I took a week off.”

“What?” 

“You told me to.” 

“You don’t need to remind me of this one, I remember it.”

“You remember what you saw, yes… Not what you didn’t,”

\- - - - - - - - -

JAPAN GRAND PRIX, 13th OCTOBER – RACE SUNDAY

Seb was taking a week off from his plan. Mainly, he didn’t know where he was going next but also because Mark had made a point. Not a point he really cared about, but Seb had had an idea sparked from Mark that he was eager to try out. A way to let the Australian know Seb had power over him even if he didn’t want to accept it. Seb smiled as he walked back to his garage, leaving Heikki to go off and sort out the necessary arrangements. This was going to be good. 

\- - -

So the lift plan had gone better than Seb had hoped. Fernando was too determined to leave that lift. To get away from Mark. Seb was re-watching the footage to see who leaned in first, hoping it was Fernando. That would add an interesting twist to his plan. Heikki let himself into Seb’s room and the German instinctively placed a hand on the top of his laptop screen, in preparation for shutting it. He relaxed as Heikki perched on the edge of his bed, looking over at him. 

“How’d it go?” Heikki asked casually. Seb beamed over at him. 

“Much better than I had hoped for. The light going and the night vision! That was genius,”

“You said if I thought of anything,” Heikki shrugged. He moved more onto the bed as Seb sat up. They both sat next to each other looking at the laptop screen. “Alright. Show me a good bit,”

“Take your pick,” Seb smiled, closing off the window he had been watching. Heikki saw several different clips in a folder Seb had named “lift”. Each clip was a short segment from the long video they had obtained from their well-positioned camera. Heikki pointed to a clips called “dark.IMPOR.”

“Ahh! This one is good.” Seb smiled, re-opening the video he had just been watching. Heikki watched it with close concentration. Seb’s smile faltered a little when Heikki didn’t return his excitement. 

“What makes that good?” Heikki asked, a little confused. 

“Look at them… Together.” 

“But Mark leans in,”

“Fernando doesn’t stop it,”

“Seb, that doesn’t mean anything,” Seb pouted and folded his arms. 

“If I showed Dasha that she would flip out.”

“But she wouldn’t accuse Fernando. She would accuse Mark of exploiting Fernando’s fear.” Seb took in his words but he wouldn’t accept them. He found the clip of Fernando freaking out and played it to Heikki. 

“Look. Tell me you don’t see a man trying to get away from another.” Seb turned the laptop round so it was facing Heikki straight on. The Finn watched the clip but he didn’t look any more convinced. 

“He just looks like he’s freaking out. Like he has a fear of lifts and wants to get out.” Seb frowned and turned the screen back to him. He knew he was right. Fernando wasn’t just acting weird because he was in a lift. He wanted to get away from Mark. If only he could have got the footage of what happened after they left the metal box. “You think there is something there?”

“I don’t think it’s one way, no,” Seb said, pasting the folder of videos onto his back-up drive and deleting them off his laptop. 

“What are you going to do?”

“Wait. This is important now. If something comes off of this I want to know. I’ll bide my time.” Seb said closing the lid of his laptop. Heikki nodded. “Do you have that key?” Heikki produced a silver key from his pocket and handed it to Seb. Seb hooked it onto his back-up drive. 

“Why did you want it?” Heikki asked.

“Just in case,” Seb smiled. He had a feeling something was coming off the back of this between Fernando and Mark. He wanted to be able to freak Mark out and get in his house when he disappeared to Spain.

\- - - - - - - - -

“I feel like you’re telling me two different stories,” Mark said. Seb yawned openly, hoping the Australian would feel some sympathy for him. When Mark said nothing, he rolled his eyes. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m trying to work out how Fernando and I link to you giving Dasha fake pills.”

“Funny, they sort of link back at this point,”

\- - - - - - - - -

BETWEEN RACES, 19th OCTOBER – OFFICE IN RED BULL

Seb walked down the corridor towards the simulator, leaving Mark standing alone outside Christian’s office. Or that is where it would look like he was going. He was actually going to his second office. Christian had been confused at first as to why he wanted a second office, but when Heikki and he explained he needed a planning room that he could lock anything away in, Christian had agreed. A bit too easily. Seb thought that maybe Christian had some hidden anger for the Australian since he didn’t tell him about his retirement plan. 

Seb shrugged at the thought, unlocking the door and letting himself in. His office had been a supply cupboard before he converted it, so it was a little room. It had no windows and after he had put the furniture in there wasn’t much room to walk around. But he could sit on the floor and spread his charts out around his legs. That was all he had wanted to do. Taking up one wall was a wooden desk with drawers. The drawers held various items and charts, as well as a file containing a first draft of a day-to-day plan that had been discarded when he changed his mind in Korea. Or had to change his mind. Opposite the door was a white board with a thick gold frame. He had notes written on his white board as well as pinned the important charts and tables to it as well as a calendar. He liked to call his second office The Room; it made it sound very ominous. 

Seb closed the door behind him and pulled the charts, tables and calendar off the white board, scattering them on the floor. He took a red pen and marked red dots in the week previous. This was his pregnancy planner. He had been asking Dasha questions so he knew if she was on or not, how long it had been since. She had been fussing about how her pills seemed to not be doing anything anymore, but Seb had always suggested that maybe her body had fallen into a natural rhythm with them. What he was happy about was that she was calculable. This process would have been a lot harder if she came on randomly. 

So Seb used The Room to plan and calculate Dasha ovulations. It was a place he could come and lock away his research and calculations and not have to fear that anyone would find them. Only Heikki had a key to get in apart from himself. It was nice. It made him feel he had somewhere private to hide in this place. He settled himself on the floor and set about updating his calendar. He ticked off calculations from his note pad that he had got right and made and estimate of when Dasha would next be in ovulation. This weekend. Coinciding perfectly with the Indian Grand Prix. The weakened he would win the World Championship. So a celebration would take place that weekend. Perfect. Seb smiled happily to himself, what a prefect way to ruin Fernando’s life in one round weekend. He would take away the title for the fourth consecutive year and impregnate his girlfriend. 

Seb’s head snapped up at the knock on the door. He hadn’t locked it behind him. Anyone could walk in. And someone was knocking. It wasn’t Heikki; they had a coded knock. This was too simple. Too much to the point. As whoever is was tried the handle, Seb hopped up off the floor and tried to prevent the door from opening any further…

\- - - - - - - - -

“SEB!” Mark yelled angrily down the line. Seb sat up suddenly, blinking his eyes confused. He had dosed off, slouched in his chair. His phone was resting on his chest and he hastily picked it back up, returning it to his ear.

“Huh?” Seb said, wiping the drawl off his chin with the back of his hand. 

“You can sleep when you’ve finished explaining.”

“Mark, I’m so tired. Call again in the morning.” Seb yawned, resting his head on the back of the chair. 

“No. You’re more honest when you’re half asleep. Its easier for you to tell me the truth rather than lie and make up shit.” Seb sighed. 

“Fine. Where was I?”

“Someone was knocking on your door,” Mark growled. 

“That was you.” Seb yawned, sitting himself up and drinking more water. 

\- - - - - - - - -

…“Mark?” Seb said, pushing his body against the door so it couldn’t be opened any more. There was about three inches of the room visible to the Australian and Seb was determined not to let anymore be seen. 

“What are you doing in there?” Mark asked, frowning. “Christian said you had a new office…”

“Yes.” Seb said, straightening himself up. Mark stepped back from the door, folding his arms. 

“Why?”

“I wanted one.”

“You have an office upstairs?” Mark commented. Seb watched him as he stepped closer again, a teasing smirk painting itself onto his lips. “What are you hiding in there?”

“Nothing.” Seb said, blushing. Mark put one palm on the back of the door. 

“Why does Sebastian Vettel need two offices?” Mark teased, trying to look over Seb’s shoulder into the room. Seb tried to shut the door but Mark was pressing back against him, keeping it open. 

“Go over stuff,” Seb exasperated, giving up on trying to shut the door. Mark frowned. 

“Stuff? What stuff?” Mark seemed more concerned that curious about what was in the room now as he pushed against Seb again. Seb tried to prevent the door from opening, but it slipped a few more inches and gave Mark a flash of the back wall. Seb watched Mark’s jaw suddenly lock in anger. “Just a glory room is it? Christian give it to you so you could sit and look at your trophies?” Seb was momentarily confused but he looked over his shoulder and assumed correctly that Mark had caught glimpse of the golden frame of his white board. He went with it. 

“There’s a few more in here than Fernando’s got this year,” Seb commented calmly, knowing – from their discussion earlier – that this was a sore spot for Mark. Mark just blinked. 

“That’s good, Seb.” Mark said in a monotone. He moved away from the door. Seb watched as Mark walked towards the simulator.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten you went to Spain after I told you not to.” Seb called after him, making Mark spin on his heels and glare at him. 

“You don’t own me, Seb.” Mark shot back. Seb smirked. 

“We’ll see.” With a final look at Mark, taking in the Australian’s confused expression, Seb stepped back into The Room and closed the door, sliding the lock in place. 

\- - - - - - - - -

“That’s messed up.” Mark was, again, in disbelief. 

“I knew - well, thought - I only had one chance. I needed to get my date correct.”

“But planning it? That’s what couples do. Couples that want to start a family.”

“I wanted to get her pregnant. I was making sure it would happen.” Seb shrugged, pacing around his room. He was moving to keep himself awake. His eyelids felt like they were made of metal. 

“You dedicated a whole room to planning it though. I think I preferred it when I thought you went in there to look at all your trophies.” Mark shuddered. 

“So, anyway,” Seb pressed on, wanting to finish this conversation and go to sleep. Not that he would have much time to now; it was half six. 

“No. No ‘anyway’. You’re not skipping over this.”

“What else do you want me to say?” Seb let out angrily. His tiredness was making him impatient. 

“Seb, you planned for months to get a girl pregnant. Not even a girlfriend, just some random girl. All in some sort of ploy to ruin one guy’s life! What about the baby? What about her? I know you don’t care about him, but what about the others?”

“They were just necessary. They played their part perfectly and now its done.” Mark couldn’t believe that Seb had, again, shocked him. 

“You don’t care about them either?”

“I have Hanna.”

“I’m sure she will be super impressed when she finds out about this,” Mark added sarcastically, trying his hardest to hide his anger. 

“She already knows so nice try,” Seb lied. He was tired. He wanted to end this now. But he still had so much to say. 

“I’m sure she does,” Mark said in a tone that let Seb know Mark knew he was lying. Seb shook his head.

“Are you going to let me finish? If you don’t stop interrupting it will be morning.”

“I’ve got plenty of time.”

“I’m two hours ahead and could easily hang up the phone.” Seb growled. There was silence for a moment. 

“Carry on.”

\- - - - - - - - -

INDIAN GRAND PRIX, 27th OCTOBER – RACE SUNDAY 

It had gone perfectly. He had managed to pass all of his drinks he was handed to Dasha throughout the evening, meaning that he now had a drunken Dasha on his hands and he was completely sober. She was laughing. A lot. It was really starting to get on his nerves. He was telling her that he was taking her back to her own room, but that was a lie. So disorientated, she held onto Seb tightly to make sure she didn’t fall over. He unlocked his own room door and led her inside. She stumbled over to the bed and collapsed onto it ungracefully, leaving one of her heels in the middle of the floor. Seb shut the door and moved towards her. It was now or never. He had come too far to back out now. 

“Oopsy!” Dasha laughed, spreading herself out on the bed. “Seb, it feels like water!” She giggled. Her face was flushed red as she looked back at him. He perched on the edge of the bed.

“That’s because it’s silk.” 

“Fernando’s shirt was silk. It didn’t feel like water,” Dasha commented, sitting herself up. She began to bounce slightly up and down. Seb needed to keep her mind off Fernando. 

“So mine is better?” Seb teased, making Dasha blush. 

“I haven’t seen yours… Wouldn’t be fair to judge,” Dasha said before breaking into another fit of giggles. Seb crossed the room and slid the lock on the door. He returned to Dasha who was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. “This isn’t my room.”

“It is.” Seb smiled, folding his arms. Dasha shook her head. 

“No. Because my bed is where your bathroom is,” Dasha said, pointing to Seb’s bathroom. Seb shrugged. “Why am I here?” Dasha laughed. 

“You’re in no fit state to be left alone,” Seb said in a serious tone. Irrelevant to the real reason he had brought her here, she wasn’t, and having no idea where Fernando had disappeared to, he felt responsible for her. Dasha shrugged and looked up at Seb with big eyes. 

“So now you have me here… What are you going to do with me?” Dasha purred. It sent a tingle down Seb’s spine. He played innocent. 

“Make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit?” Seb questioned. Dasha rolled her eyes and sat up on her knees. Her hands found Seb’s tie and pulled him closer. 

“Very romantic.” Dasha said, fingering the purple material of his tie. His hands found her hips easily. 

“What are you doing?”

“Experimenting.” Dasha sighed, tugging his tie loose until it fell away from his neck. 

“I’m not sure you’re in the right mind to be experimenting,” Seb said, his tone turning velvety and seductive. Dasha looked up at him.

“I don’t see you complaining,” She said, dropping the tie across the exposed flesh of her legs. Seb’s eyes followed it. 

“I’m giving you the choice to stop.” Seb said, trying to keep his breath even as Dasha’s fingers returned to his neck. She played with the bristles of hair at the back of his neck.

“It’s been so long… I’d be stupid to give up the opportunity you so obviously want to exploit,” Dasha sighed, her fingers moving to begin undoing the buttons on Seb’s shirt. Seb brushed himself closer to Dasha, always looking down at her face. 

“It’s up to you.” Seb gently placed a kiss on her forehead, even though he wasn’t really giving her a choice. She finished undoing his buttons before grabbing a handful of material in each hand and looking up at Seb.

“I think it would be rude to dismiss a World Champion,” Dasha said, pulling the shirt from its tucked position at Seb’s hips. Seb loved the way she referred to him as a World Champion. It made him feel powerful, like he could give Dasha something Fernando couldn’t. He smiled as her hands brushed across his torso and around his back. Dasha leant up on her knees so her mouth was right next to Seb’s ear. Seb momentarily forgot how to breathe. “Four times.” Before he could truly register her words, her lips were on his. There was a desperate passion in her kiss and before he knew it she was pulling him on top of her, lying on the bed. 

\- - - - - - - - -

“You’re fucking despicable, you know that?” Mark said venomously. 

“You can talk. When did you first get with Fernando?” Seb countered, rendering the Australian silent. “And I thought we agreed you weren’t interrupting anymore?” Seb gave it a minute, but when Mark didn’t say anything else Seb carried on.

\- - - - - - - - -

ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX, 29th OCTOBER – WEDNESDAY BEFORE RACE 

Dasha walked into Seb’s room without saying a word. It had only been a few days since that night after the party. When Seb had woken up the next morning, Dasha had gone. She left a note explaining she had gone to find Fernando and that they needed to talk. He watched her as she stood with her arms folded, looking sheepish. He shut the door. 

“Fernando doesn’t know I’m here.” She started. Seb was a little shocked by the revelation but nodded anyway. “I told him I was going on a shoot in another country. He doesn’t need to know I'm here.”

“I understand.” Seb said, taking a seat on the bed and indicating for Dasha to do the same. Dasha shook her head. 

“What we did…” Dasha started. But it was too much for her. She blushed and looked at the floor. 

“It was wrong. But we were both really drunk. It was a mistake. Don’t worry.” Seb wanted to be compassionate but Dasha was deliberately standing a long way away from him. He was slightly hurt by her distance. 

“I wasn’t that drunk.” Dasha admitted. Seb was a little confused. 

“But you had been drinking all night.” Dasha shook her head.

“I kept hiding them. I feel horrible. I used you. I used you because Fernando was shutting me out. Is shutting me out… You should hate me. I don’t even deserve-”

“-Hey now,” Seb said, crossing the room and pulling Dasha into a hug. Dasha covered her face with her hands and let herself cry. Seb rubbed circles into her back. “I don’t hate you.”

“You should.” Dasha said. Her hands muffled her voice. 

“Well I don’t. Dasha we were both drunk. It was an emotional day for everyone. We’ll pretend it didn’t happen. It was an accident. No one else needs to know. Our little secret.” Seb cooed. He led Dasha to the bed and sat her down on the edge. Eventually, she re-emerged. Seb wiped the tears from her cheeks. Dasha evened out her breathing before asking her final question. The one she was dreading most. 

“Seb…”

“Yes, Dasha,” He said, placing a kiss on her temple. She leaned into him, pulled in by the intimacy of his touch. 

“Did we… Did we use protection?” Dasha asked. Seb knew they hadn’t. What would have been the point in going through with the whole charade if he was just going to be safe about it? No, they hadn’t. 

“I think so…” Seb lied. “I can’t quite remember.” Dasha nodded her head. 

“Hopefully.” She sighed, pulling closer to Seb. Seb wondered curiously if she was going to get clingy now he had showed her some comfort. Just three more races then she’s out of your hair Seb mused in his head. Three more races until the fun began. 

\- - - - - - - - -

ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX, 31st OCTOBER – FRIDAY PRACTICE 

He had let Dasha stay. She wanted to try and get close to Fernando again and apparently the social protocol for him was to be supportive in that manner. And in terms of his plan it was crucial. Seb was getting ready to head to the track and Dasha was sitting on his unmade bed with her phone pressed to her ear. Her eyes were closed in a desperate manner and he observed her as he clipped on his watch. She sighed, opening her eyes and looking down at the screen. 

“He just keeps letting it ring through… Why wouldn’t he want to talk to me?” Dasha asked Seb, looking worried. 

“I don’t know,” Seb said, pulling on his jacket. He placed his track bag on the desk and checked he had his things. iPod. Headphones. Drink… Dasha interrupted his checklist. 

“Do you think he knows what we did?” Dasha said in a panicky tone. Seb looked over at her. She was clutching her phone tightly in both hands, holding it close to her chest. Her eyes had glazed over. 

“There is no possible way he could know.” Seb said reassuringly, swinging his bag on his back. 

“But what if someone saw me leave in the morning? What if someone saw us enter your room together?” Seb crossed the room and put both of his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes found his. 

“No one saw us. Fernando doesn’t know.” He gave her a small smile. “Calm down and order some room service. You’ve got my number if you need me.” Dasha nodded and Seb let her go, turning his back to her and crossing the room. 

“Seb?” She called after him. He rolled his eyes before turning back to her, looking worried. 

“Yeah?” Dasha blushed and looked down into her lap. 

“Never mind.” She sighed. Seb gave her one last smile, which she returned, before exiting the room. With the door firmly shut he exasperated. It was hard work trying to keep her calm. He started to head down the hallway. Three more races.

\- - - 

“Seb!” Heikki yelled as he dashed across the entrance of the paddock. Seb stopped walking to wait for Heikki; the desperation in his tone made him believe Heikki had big news. The Finn caught up to him out of breath. Seb always found it amusing when Heikki was out of breath. As his trainer, Seb thought he should always at least appear fitter than himself. Though he had just sprinted through a crowd of people. 

“You have news?” Seb said, lowering the tone of his voice. Heikki caught his elbow. 

“Walk with me.” Heikki said, dragging him off through the crowd. They crossed quickly to the Red Bull motor home and headed for Seb’s cool down room. Once safely inside Seb turned on his trainer. 

“Tell me.”

“After your party, or during. At least after you’re speech, Fernando left. One of the bouncers told me. I followed him back to the hotel. He went up to the front desk and got a key for Mark’s room. Mark’s room.” Heikki stopped talking to let his words sink in. Seb just frowned at him. 

“Fernando went to Mark’s room?” Heikki nodded. “Why?”

“I don’t know, but neither Mark or Fernando looked too impressed with your speech.” Heikki smiled at the memory. Seb smiled to.

“So what? Fernando went to Mark’s room and bitched about my speech?”

“I don’t know. I had to go and make sure certain people were not seen entering a hotel room.” Seb blushed. 

“Thanks for that,” Seb added. 

“No problem. But Mark and Fernando were both in Mark’s room that night. And no one saw Fernando until he arrived at the pool the next morning.” Heikki was excited about this news but Seb couldn’t see the relevance. 

“That could mean anything. Nothing solid there,” Seb said, moving over and unpacking a few things from his bag. Heikki huffed. 

“And you thought that lift footage was good,” Heikki sighed sarcastically. 

“That was. Is. Mark was pretty shaken by it.” Seb said triumphantly. Heikki shook his head and headed for the door. 

“Something happened there in India,” Heikki said as he walked out the room. “You’ll see.”

\- - -

Seb owed Heikki an apology. Mark and Fernando were together? Like, together? He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe what he had seen, what Fernando’s silence had confirmed. But he also couldn’t believe his luck. This changed everything. There were now three people in this equation. Fernando. Dasha. Mark. And hopefully soon a baby. Seb smiled happily to himself. Things were getting very interesting. 

\- - - - - - - - -

ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX, 2nd NOVEMBER – RACE SUNDAY

He’d won another one. And now people were talking about him winning them all. That would be another record he would smash. What a prefect end to the weekend. The knock on the door wiped the smile off his face. Who would be knocking for him now? He was done at the track. He left his bag half packed as he frowned and crossed the room. Opening the door, the tear-stained, make-up ruined face of Dasha was revealed. Seb had not expected that. 

“What-?”

“I can’t get hold of him. No one will tell me anything. Seb, I feel horrible. What if something happens to him?” Dasha said, her voice broken trying to hold back more tears. She walked into the room and perched on the edge of the bed. Seb closed the door and walked over to her. 

“He’ll be fine. Fernando’s tough. He’s just gone in for a precautionary check.” Seb said. Dasha wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close, burying her face in his navel.

“I can’t bear to think, Seb. What if something happens? Why won’t anyone tell me anything?” Seb stroked Dasha’s hair. 

“It will be alright. He will be alright. No one will tell you anything because there is nothing to tell.”

“He doesn’t know I'm here. I feel so guilty, Sebi…” Dasha’s voice was muffled by Seb’s shirt. He didn’t know what to do. So he stood and stroked her hair. He let her do what would make her feel comfortable. This wasn’t part of his plan. He let her push her hands up the back of his shirt, pull him closer to him, place gentle kisses on his stomach that made his head feel light. 

Wait. What?

“Dasha?”

“Don’t say anything.” Dasha said, standing up and bringing Sebastian closer to her. He didn’t understand. She was worried about Fernando, but here she was… Undressing him. And this didn’t feel right, to take advantage of her in her vulnerable state. But she was asking him to. Was she looking for a distraction? He didn’t know, but no sooner had he decided not to try and stop her he was pushing his bag onto the floor, the contents spilling everywhere. 

Oh well. At least he could be certain she would be pregnant. 

\- - - - - - - - -

“Haven’t got anything to say this time?” Seb asked, curious about Mark’s silence. Maybe he had gone to sleep. That would be good. Then Seb could hang up and crawl under his own sheets that were crying out to him. His luck was running out though. Mark cleared his throat. 

“You’re not making any of this up?”

“No. She came to me the second time. I just didn’t refuse.” There was a long pause and Seb was getting tired of having to wait. He opened his mouth to continue when Mark spoke again. 

“Feeling a lot better about what I did now,” Mark sighed. Seb found this slightly amusing. 

“Maybe she was doing the same?”

“No, mate. She just cheated to make herself feel better. At least Fernando did it for lo-” Mark stopped himself from talking, though he felt he had already given too much away. 

“Did it for?” Seb encouraged, 

“I’m tired. Don’t know where I was going with that.” Mark lied. 

“I provided her with something Fernando hadn’t given her in a long time.” Seb said casually. 

“You didn’t do it for her, you did it for your own selfish needs.”

“I do have needs, Mark. I’m a man,” Seb teased. 

“So, what? Now she’s pregnant?” Mark asked, changing the subject. Seb smiled. 

“Not quite as simple as that, but pretty much, yeah.”

\- - - - - - - - -

AMERICAN GRAND PRIX, 17th NOVEMBER – RACE SUNDAY 

Seb. I’ve been being sick in the morning all week. 

That was the first text he received Sunday morning. It was music to his ears. But he had to play it cool, as if this was unexpected news. 

That’s pleasant to be woken up to. 

He could almost envision Dasha rolling her eyes at his comment.

I think I’m pregnant. 

Blunt. Seb liked it. 

Right. 

Seb wasn’t sure how that message would come across to Dasha. He pulled himself out of bed and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. When he returned he read her reply. 

I was hoping for a little bit more than that. It’s been three weeks since we first… You know. And I haven’t had a period since. 

He could sense her panic through the screen.

Thanks for the details. -.- Ok. Stay calm. I’ll go down to the hotel shop and get a test. Come up to my room. I’ll meet you in five. 

He pulled a jacket on over his pyjamas and slipped some shoes on his feet. Opening his bag, he pulled out one of each type of pregnancy tests he had brought with him. He pushed them into his pocket and, picking up his key card, left the room. He walked down the corridor and hid around the corner until the five minutes were up. As he re-emerged into the hall, his eyes fell on Dasha. Her vague eyes showed her worry. His face split into a sympathetic smile. She didn’t look at him as he approached. He touched her arm and it seemed to startle her. A single tear ran down her cheek. 

He let them both in and Dasha lingered by the door. Seb stood by the bed and pulled the tests out of his pocket. Realising she wasn’t standing beside him, he gently circled her wrist with his hand and led her to the bed. 

“I don’t want to do this,” Dasha sighed. She took a step backwards towards the door but Seb tightened his grip. 

“It’s alright. I’m here. We’ll go through it together.” Seb said reassuringly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. She looked pale. She looked ill. Seb was sure he had got his calculations bang on. “Where’s Fernando?” This seemed to be the wrong thing to ask. Dasha’s eyes widened in fear. 

“Asleep. I couldn’t… Seb. I’m scared,” Dasha said, her voice cracking on her words. Seb pulled her in for a hug.

“It’s alright. Don’t worry. It’s all right. I’m here. It will be fine, Dasha,” Seb cooed as he rubbed her back. Dasha composed herself and stepped out of his hold. Seb held out the three tests. “I didn’t know which one you wanted,” Seb shrugged. Dasha took all three and headed into the bathroom. 

Seb sat himself on the edge of the bed whilst he waited for Dasha to appear again. It felt like an age. Or maybe it wasn’t. Seb was so happy. It was difficult not to let Dasha know. He had to be supportive and act like this wasn’t exactly what he wanted. Even though it was. Dasha suddenly appeared out of the bathroom. Her suddenness made Seb jump. She crossed the room and kept her back to the place she had just vacated. 

“Tell me. I can’t look.” Dasha said breathily. Sebastian nodded and got up, walking into the bathroom. She had done all three tests, each little white stick lying next to the sink. Their colour making them look so innocent and harmless, little did they know they were about to ruin Dasha’s life. Seb waited the required three minutes before he picked them all up. Reading them all as showing positive. Seb forced the smile off his face. Dasha still wasn’t looking at him when he re-entered the room. 

“I’m sorry.” Seb sighed. He watched as Dasha’s posture deflated. But she didn’t say anything. She walked over to him, looked at the three positive tests and left. Seb was a little confused by her actions as he blinked stupidly at the door. 

\- - -

Dasha was already at the bar when Seb walked in. It was late and he knew Dasha had told Fernando she was going out with the other girls to do some shopping. That had been a lie. Seb had texted her; they needed to talk about this. Mainly because Seb needed to know what Dasha was planning to do, he needed to make sure his plan was going to work. He moved over to her table by the window and sat himself down. She gave him a small smile. 

“I’m sorry about earlier,” She said, her hands wrapped carefully around the bottom of her glass of water. Seb nodded and placed his hands on the table.

“It’s alright. I understand. This is a big shock.” Seb was watching her face closely, trying to work out what she was thinking, what she wanted to do.

“I should have stayed and said something. This is a shock for you to,” Dasha looked up at Seb.

“Yeah, but it’s your body. Your life. And Fernando-”

“-Don’t go there.” Dasha said, holding up her hand. Seb watched her as she took a shaky sip from her water. 

“So… What are you going to do?” Seb asked curiously. Dasha shook her head.

“I don’t know.” She dropped her head into her hands. “This is so difficult. Why did this have to happen?”

“It’s OK, Dasha. We can sort this. We will make it work,” Seb soothingly rubbed her arm. At that moment he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. With Dasha distracted, he pulled it out and read the message Heikki had sent. 

Mark took Fernando back to the hotel. They’re in Fernando’s room. 

Seb frowned at the message. Why was Heikki telling him this? Dasha dried her eyes and Seb put his phone away, pushing the though to the back of his mind. 

“Do you want to keep it?” Seb asked. He was happy to see Dasha’s hands fly protectively to her navel. 

“I couldn’t… Seb, I have to keep it.” Dasha said, her voice just above a whisper. Seb was relieved. 

“Ok. So what are you going to tell Fernando?” Dasha looked at Seb, desperate for some kind of answer. Just as he had hoped. He took her hands in his. “Tell him it’s his.” Dasha looked shocked. 

“What?”

“Tell him the kid is his.” Seb said sincerely. Everything he had been working up to for the past seven months and finally he was here. The last step. The one last thing he needed to happen. 

“He won’t believe me. He’ll know. He knows we haven’t had-”

“-Well then you’ve got to make that happen. You’ve got to make him believe it’s his. Do you want to loose him over one little mistake?”

“This is a little more that a little mistake,” Dasha said. Seb rolled his eyes slightly as she looked at the table. 

“Do you want to loose him?” Seb asked again. Dasha shook her head. “Then you’ve got to make him believe it’s his.” Dasha nodded in agreement and Seb offered to take her back to the hotel. As they walked out of the pub, Seb held the door open. “That is, if he’s still yours to not loose.” Seb said as she passed under his arm. Out on the street Dasha turned on him, frowning in a worried manner. 

“What?” Seb walked her to the car, telling her more lies. He was guessing. That was what he was telling her. He told her of looks they had shared in press conferences and moments in the paddock when she was not there. She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe him. They sat in the car and Seb turned to her before he set off. 

“I’m only telling you because I don’t want you to get hurt,” Seb said softly. 

“So what? You think they’re… What?” Dasha said angrily, folding her arms. 

“I don’t think anything, Dasha.”

“You do. You do or you wouldn’t have told me.”

“Something is weird there.” Seb admitted. Dasha looked over at him as if he was mad. 

“This is all Mark’s fault. He’s probably been filling Fernando with lies. Telling him I’m not good enough and giving him comfort. I bet you he’s manipulating his head. Confusing him.”

“Dasha. Don’t make assumptions. I’ve been wrong before. I was wrong in Korea,” Seb reminded her, even though he had always known he would be wrong in that instance. Dasha shrugged angrily. “I’m just telling you what I thought I saw. I don’t want you to get too excited. It’s not good for the ba-”

“-I don’t give a shit, Seb.” There was a pause in which Dasha took a deep breath. “Take me back to the hotel now.” She demanded and Seb started up the car. The ride to the hotel was quiet and quick. Dasha stared potently out of the window with her arms folded. Seb parked the car and Dasha got out first. He jogged to catch up with her. 

“Dasha, don’t do anything stupid. I’m probably wrong.”

“You told me what you saw. I thankful you did that. But Mark needs to stop. He’s filling Fernando’s head with crazy ideas.”

“You don’t know that.” Seb pleaded. It was all an act, but he did need Dasha to stay with Fernando for his plan to work. He was worried that if Dasha called Fernando on it that he would tell her the truth and there would be more reason for him to leave. Fernando needed to know Dasha was pregnant before Dasha found out about Mark and he. “Just, be sensitive.”

“Do you know something else?” Dasha turned on him with raging eyes. Seb shrunk back a little. 

“I’ve told you everything.” Seb lied. “But if Mark has confused him he will be confused. Be sensitive with him.” Seb swallowed and Dasha nodded. Without another word she walked into the hotel alone. Seb exasperated. It was out of his hands now. 

Later that evening, when Seb was climbing into his bed, he got a text message from Dasha. She was worrying again. 

Mark was here when I got back. What the fuck is going on? 

Seb sighed as he replied and then turned his phone off. He didn’t want her disturbing him all night. 

Tell him the kid is his and he won’t be confused anymore. Remember he loves you, Dasha. If he didn’t he wouldn’t be with you xx

Seb smiled as he closed his eyes, falling into a happy sleep. 

\- - - - - - - - -

BRAZILIAN GRAND PRIX, 21th NOVEMBER – SATURDAY QUALIFYING 

Heikki had followed Fernando on the Wednesday evening. He had followed him after Dasha had told him about the kid. Fernando had left her in the room alone. She had text Sebastian. Fernando wasn’t aware anyone was following him, he wasn’t aware of anything but himself. He had gone to Mark’s room. But he didn’t knock. He didn’t go inside. He just stood and looked at the door, his fists slowly clenching, knuckles turning white, as he got angrier. Angrier at himself. Heikki had watched as his posture deflated and he left, heading back to his own room and not disturbing Mark. Heikki had text Seb as soon as Fernando had gone back into Dasha and his room. 

That was the bit of the story Dasha couldn’t tell him, the blank she was desperately trying to fill in. But when she was giving Sebastian a rendition on Saturday evening, she was more relaxed than he had seen her this year. He asked why she was so calm and she told him the story of a little red cake that Seb had seen sitting on Mark’s car. He hadn’t thought anything of it; he hadn’t paid much attention to it. But with what Dasha was telling him. She seemed happy. She was Ok with it. And that wasn’t good. Seb needed her to be annoyed. 

“I don’t understand.” Seb said after she finished. She was eating the cream of the top of a fruit salad. 

“What don’t you understand?” She asked politely. She was happy. Why was she happy?

“You’re happy.” Dasha smiled. 

“Yeah.” There was a pause. 

“Why?” Seb asked in a bemused tone. 

“He’s happy. You should have seen him, Sebi. It was-”

“-I don’t need details, thanks.” Seb said, frowning and raising his arm. Dasha went back to her fruit. “What about the kid?”

“It’s not his. It doesn’t matter.” She said, more interested in her food. 

“But you’ve told him it was his,” Seb pointed out. Dasha swallowed a little too forced. 

“Yes…?” 

“It will hurt him if he knows you lied.” Seb said, feeling the tables turn back to his side. “And it was probably just a one off, it probably didn’t mean anything.” Seb folded his arms.

“They looked like they were in-” Dasha countered, but Seb didn’t want to hear it. 

“-Yeah. Fine. But you don’t know. And you’re just going to take this kid away from him and confuse him more?” Seb’s agitation was clear in his voice. 

“I don’t know.” Dasha said with blank eyes. 

“Don’t do anything. Not yet. We need to be sure. You need to be sure. You upset the rhythm now and you’ll hurt him more,”

“But what about Mark?”

“He’s leaving at the end of the season, Fernando won’t see him again. See how long their ‘relationship’-” Seb used his fingers to make speech marks in the air around the word to show his disbelief in the word. “-lasts. It won’t, Dasha. Don’t take something else away from him.” Seb got up without another word. He hated not having the control he used to have over his plan. If one little thing fucked this up he couldn’t stop it. All he needed Dasha to do was keep Fernando in the dark until the beginning of next season. Then, when Seb told her to tell him the truth, hopefully Fernando would be unnerved for the beginning of the next season and Seb would have nine months to keep reminding him of everything he had taken from him. That was how his plan was supposed to end. That was how he wanted it to. But it was out of his hands now for three months. He crossed his fingers, hoping his luck would hold. 

\- - - - - - - - -

“And that’s it. Up until today when Fernando came in and took away all of my evidence.” Seb sighed, falling back on his bed. He felt no regrets telling Mark, maybe now he would get Mark and Fernando distraut all under a singular plan. That would be the icing on the cake for his relationship with Mark after ‘Multi-21’. 

“That’s everything? Everything you planned?”

“And what I’m going to do next.” Seb added with a yawn. 

“And… You just told me. Even though you know I’d do anything to protect Fernando?”

“You’re never going to see him again, what can you do?” Seb said, letting his eyes close. 

“Oh Seb…. Silly Seb…” Mark smiled down the line. Seb opened his eyes and frowned. That wasn’t right.

“What?”

“You think I’m never going to see him again?”

“Yes. Because you’re not.”

“Where did I come in the driver’s championship?” Mark asked. Seb shrugged he was too tired and he really didn’t care. 

“I don’t know, Mark.”

“Third.” There was a pause in which Seb slowly opened his eyes. 

“I thought you came forth?”

“Nope, third. And Fernando came second.” Seb swallowed as the realisation of what Mark was saying set in. How could he have missed that one tiny but very important detail? 

“No, but I-?”

“-See you at the FIA Gala in France, Seb,” Mark smiled and the line went dead. Seb looked at the blank screen of his phone as his mouth dropped open. Shit.


	26. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.”  
> ~Buddha~

Anne came down the stairs and the first thing she saw was the bag by the front door. She frowned at it initially, not understanding its relevance. Without giving it a second thought, she crossed into the kitchen. The kitchen seemed to be in order; nothing appeared out of place. She yawned as she walked over to the kettle, but that was where the frown returned to her face. It was already boiled. She just looked at it, confused. Ben was still upstairs in bed, Luke hadn’t left his room yet and Sarah was happily still asleep. She couldn’t work out who would have boiled the kettle at half-past seven in the morning when her entire family was asleep. She heard a thud behind her and turned, realising who she had missed. 

Mark put a second bag next to the first and crossed into the room, having seen Annie go in there. He tried to give her a small smile but he was still angry with Seb. He hadn’t slept at all after he hung up the phone; he had just been planning. He couldn’t wait until the gala to tell Fernando. It was too far away. And now with Seb aware that he knew everything and had the intentions of telling Fernando, he knew Seb would be out to clear up his mess. Make it impossible for Mark to prove to Fernando he was right. So he was going back to the airport and straight to Spain. He hated lying awake and planning. It made him think that he was much more alike Sebastian than he would have ever wanted to be. But it had to be done because Mark wanted to sort this. Mark lent against the counter opposite Annie and folded his arms. 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Annie asked, making herself a cup of coffee. She had no idea that Mark had ben awake all night talking to Seb. 

“No.” Mark said bluntly. Annie shot him a disapproving look, one a mother would send her child, and Mark rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t tired.”

“But you are now,” Annie said, over her shoulder as she poured the hot water into her mug. 

“No.” Annie stopped what she was doing and turned to face Mark. She lent her hands on the surface behind her and took in his dishevelled appearance. His eyes were blood shot and his eyelids looked like they were being forced open, his skin was also paler than normal, making his sharp cheekbones look hollow against his skin. 

“You look it.” Annie commented. Mark rubbed his hand across his face and moved over to the sink, getting himself a glass of water. Annie watched him. “Sweetie, it’s fine. I’ve got nothing planned today. Just go back to bed and lie down, I under-”

“-I can’t do that. I’ve got to go.” Mark said, draining the glass of water. Annie blinked. 

“Go?”

“Yup. I was hoping you could give me a lift to the airport. I can take it from there,” Mark commented as he washed up his glass. Annie continued to stare at him. 

“The airport? Why do you need to go back there?” Annie questioned. Mark didn’t look at her as he replied. 

“I’m going to Spain.” He said bluntly, drying the glass. Annie sighed. 

“Mark, don’t. You’ll just-”

“-You don’t understand, Annie, OK? You don’t know what I know. You can’t understand. I just need you to drive me to the airport.” Mark looked over at her with a tired expression. Annie folded her arms and Mark knew she was about to argue. Just what I fucking need

“If you need to go to the airport, drive yourself.” Mark was confused. She was going to let him go? Somehow that point made him rethink his actions. 

“I can’t.”

“Then what makes you think I can?”

“No. My car is still at the airport. You drove me here last night. That’s where it is.”

“Oh…” Annie said, turning back to her coffee. Mark watched her back for a moment. Was she deliberately not saying anything to make Mark think about what he was doing? If she was it was working. He suddenly felt a dreaded wave of worry wash over him. Was he being rash? What if Fernando wouldn’t talk to him? What if he couldn’t tell him? What if it made no difference and Fernando stayed with Dasha anyway?

“Annie…” Mark sighed, sadly. His change of tone spun her around. His worried expression combined with his tired eyes made him appear years older. She hated it. She just wanted Mark to be happy. 

“Honey, what is it?”

“Just… Tell me what you think.” Annie sighed. Of course Mark wanted confirmation he was doing the right thing. But Annie couldn’t bring herself to agree.

“Don’t go. You’re tired. You’re upset. You need to calm down and think about it. If you go all the way out to Spain how do you know he is going to believe you? You need to show him some proof it’s not his. Until you get that then you’ve got to stay here.” She pulled him into a hug. “Stay here as long as you want, OK? Ben doesn’t mind. I want to help you.” But Mark already knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t take her sympathetic looks. It made him feel vulnerable. And now he knew… He couldn’t just leave it. He had to act. He had to tell Fernando. As much as he appreciated Annie’s help, he needed to work on his own now. And Annie had given him an idea. He pulled out of her hug. 

“Thank you for the offer. But I can’t. Not now. I know too much. I’ve got to tell him.”

“What’s happened? What’s changed your mind?” Annie asked sceptically. 

“I called the father.”

“You know whose it is?” Annie said, hands flying to her mouth. Mark nodded, his eyes darkening. Annie almost felt she didn’t have to ask whom, but she needed the confirmation. “Who?”

“Seb.” Mark said bluntly. Annie shook her head. 

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s why I have to go. I need to tell Fernando. He deserves to know. Annie, you don’t know what he’s got planned. And I’m not going to tell you. This is my problem to fix and I have to act quickly because if I don’t Seb will stop me. I can’t loose him because of this. It’s not fair.” Mark’s anger had taken over his voice and he couldn’t help but raise his voice at Annie. She looked scared. 

“Alright, Mark. Just calm down.” She said, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder. He accepted her touch. “Alright.” He looked up at her, calming his breathing. 

“So you’re going to take me to the airport?” Mark asked. 

“I’m not letting you go to Spain. Not like this.”

“No. I know. Changed my mind. I need to get my car. That’s where it is.” He ran his hands over his face again and walked to his pile of bags by the front door. He pulled his rucksack onto his back and turned to see Annie lingering in the doorway. He was ready to go. 

“Where are you going once I’ve dropped you off?” She asked as he folded his arms. 

“Somewhere.” Mark said. He knew if he told her where he was heading she wouldn’t take him. She didn’t need to know. 

“And you’re going to drive in this tired, angry, upset state?”

“I’m fine.” Annie looked at him sceptically for a moment before she shook her head. Mark exasperated. 

“You’re not driving like this, Mark; you’ll have an accident.”

“I know how I feel, Annie. I’m fine to drive.” Annie folded her arms. 

“I won’t take you. Now how are you going to get there?”

“Bus? I don’t need your protection, Annie. I’m a big boy. I need to do this.” Mark’s jaw set in a stubborn way. If he could have seen himself at that moment he would have related the position to one Fernando adopted too often. Annie looked at the floor. She knew she wouldn’t change his mind. There was no point in wasting her breath. She ascended the stairs to change out of her pyjamas and into some casual clothes. Mark waited for her at the bottom of the steps. 

When she reappeared, he gave her a thankful smile, but her face remained emotionless. Her instincts were telling her to not take him, to stay in the house and force him to sleep. But Mark had made up his mind and she had to remember that he wasn’t hers to protect anymore. She had forgotten how hard it was to let him go the first time, even if she pretended it was the easiest thing to do. She sighed as she climbed into the drivers seat, turning her thoughts to Ben and Sarah. She was happy. She didn’t need Mark anymore just like Mark didn’t need her. As they pulled away, the cup of coffee Annie had abandoned sat on the countertop in the kitchen, slowly growing cold. 

\- - -

“Mark,” Annie said softly, shaking his shoulder. He had slept for most of the journey to the airport and she had left him. He looked terrible and she thought maybe the sleep would help. At least he had a little bit more colour in his cheeks. Mark looked around disorientated as he awoke. He had been dreaming. As he blinked, the images that had appeared in his my tumbled away. He knew Fernando had been there. He closed his eyes and focused on holding onto that last image he could remember. Fernando’s face lying on his chest. He sat himself up. 

“Sorry.” He said, rubbing his eyes. He had been dreaming he was at Fernando’s. The dream was so realistic he was confused to be confronted with the vision of Heathrow airport instead of the soft white sheets he had pulled close around Fernando. As he woke more, the realisation that things weren’t like that anymore burnt into his heart. He sat for a moment, composing himself, until the pain was overcome with sheer determination to get things back to the way that they were. 

“You alright?” Annie asked cautiously, watching the different emotions spread across his face. Mark nodded once before turning to face her. 

“I’ll text you when I’m home if you want,” he suggested. 

“That would be nice,” Annie smiled. Mark opened the door.

“Alright. Well… Thanks,” Mark nodded again and pushed himself out of the car. He retrieved his things from the boot and headed off to the airport car park. Annie wound down the window as he past the car again. 

“Mark.” She said, causing the Australian to turn and face her. “Come over whenever you want. Door’s always open,” she smiled and Mark scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Not sure Ben would appreciate that,” he commented. Annie shook her head. 

“He likes you. It’s just… I never seem to see you anymore.”

“We lead different lives now, Anne,”

“Just… At least visit. Or call more. Or even a text every now and then.”

“Ok,” Mark laughed as he moved away. Anne couldn’t help but let a grin spread over her face. “I’ll contact you sometime… Somehow.” He sent her a wink before he turned and headed off towards his car. Anne sighed as she did up the window. Ben and Sarah. That was her life now. She turned the car around and drove away.

Mark found his car easily and climbed into the back. He emptied his rucksack into his main bag with a small fight. His bag had been pretty full as it was and the attempt of trying to put more in it saw it almost splitting at the seams. He gave up when, again, his trainers refused to let the zip close. Abandoning the mess on his back seat, he climbed out the car, taking the now empty rucksack with him. He settled himself in the driver’s seat and put the empty rucksack on the seat beside him. Without a second thought to where he was going, he pulled out of the car park and sped off down the road. 

The motorway disappeared past him quicker than it appeared. He was focused. His knuckles turned white as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. Because he was angry. At the situation. At how he had missed it all. At Seb. How could he think he had the right to do this shit to Fernando? To him… To them? His eyes brimmed with tears of anger and he hated himself for letting his body react like this. He blinked until they accidently fell onto his cheeks. With a second wave of anger spilling through him, his right foot inched closer to the floor of the car. 

Maybe it was because he had driven so fast, or maybe the time had flown by because he wasn’t focusing on it, but he was at the Red Bull factory in a very short space of time. He parked his car a little down the road from the factory just in case someone saw it in the car park and recognised it. That wouldn’t help him. He picked up the rucksack and pulled it over one shoulder before slamming the car door and crossing into the factory. 

He didn’t think he would get very far but he had to try. He walked straight up to the first security gate and punched in the numbers he had remember for the past six years. He expected the little light to turn red. He expected to be denied access. It turned green. Shocked, but relieved, Mark pushed on the gate and walked through to the lobby Seb had sat on the desk of all that time ago. That time Mark had thought Seb was sitting in a little room looking at his trophies. Mark had to laugh at the naïve attitude of Red Bull. For a team that was pretty organised he was surprised they hadn’t changed the code. Though they probably didn’t expect their ex-driver to storm in and wreck the place. Mark shrugged to himself. Maybe they should. 

Luck was on his side today. The girl who normally greeted them from behind the desk was not there. He passed through the lobby undetected. Walking that too similar route towards the simulator, Mark rediscovered that anger he had felt from earlier. The momentary lucky spell had distracted him. But he was fuming again. At Seb. And the idea that he thought he had a right. Mark turned the corner at Christian’s office. 

“Mark?” Christian’s voice followed him down the corridor but he ignored it. There was panic in his tone; maybe Seb had already spoken to him. Christian quickened his step to catch the long strides of the Australian. He held a data file in his hand that he had been about to photocopy. One look at Mark’s anger-set face and Christian swallowed. “You’re not allowed to be here.” Christian said in the most confident voice he could muster. Mark didn’t stop walking. 

“Change the fucking codes then.” Mark spat, turning to the corridor on the right that lead to the Simulator and Seb’s second office. Christian caught his arm but Mark shook it off. Christian stayed walking with him. 

“Mark, this is technically breaking and entering-”

“-Did I break anything to get in?” Mark questioned, giving a side-glance to his old team principle. He saw him swallow. 

“Well, no, but-”

“-Right then.” Mark nodded, looking forwards again. He momentarily thought what Marko would think of what he was doing. Maybe that was why Christian was so nervous. They reached Seb’s second office and Mark stopped. Christian frowned at him, too afraid of what Mark might do if he interfered. His thoughts flew to the state of his office after Malaysia. And the accidental bruise. If he was that annoyed it wasn’t worth it. Mark tried the door handle and was not surprised to find it locked. He turned on Christian. “You have a key?” Christian shook his head. 

“Only Sebastian and He-” But Christian didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. On accepting there was no key, Mark had raised his leg and put all his weight into his kick. By catching the handle with his heel, Mark bent the lock and the door stuttered backwards, swinging open with the handle falling, broken, to the ground. He looked at Christian’s shocked face with his mouth dropped open as he pulled his bag off his back. 

“Now that’s breaking and entering.” Mark said, crossing the threshold into the room. His eyes fell on the whiteboard, covered in charts. He couldn’t quite believe it was all true. All here. He unzipped his bag and headed for the first drawer in the desk. This was the evidence he needed. This was the evidence he needed to prove to Fernando he was right when he saw him at the Gala. Christian didn’t stop him nor did he call for security. He left, rushing back through the corridors, to try and find Heikki. 

\- - -

Sebastian had wanted to call Heikki. That was why he had reached for his phone as he woke up. His flight wasn’t until later, so he had allowed himself to sleep in. He still only got four hours sleep and he internally cursed Mark as he scrolled through his numbers. Just as he was about to call Heikki, Christian called him. Seb frowned, not understanding. Still confused, he unlocked the phone and pressed it to his ear. 

“Hello?”

“Seb! Thank fuck, I couldn’t find Heikki. Someone told me he went out so I tired his phone but I think he’s left it in his office and I couldn’t get hold of him which was a problem-”

“-Woah. Christian, slow down. What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Seb said, sitting up and rubbing his face tiredly. He could barely focus on the babble of words Christian was saying. 

“It’s Mark.” Christian swallowed. Seb looked up, dread filling his stomach. Oh no. 

“Mark? What about Mark? What’s he done?” Seb’s panic was clear now and it did nothing to settle his team principle. 

“It’s… He… I just-”

“-For fuck sake, Christian. Just tell me what he’s done.”

“He got in.” Christian’s voice was shaking which was pissing Seb off. 

“Got in? To Red Bull? Your house? Where? What are you talking about?”

“He’s putting it all in his bag. I can’t stop him.” Christian sounded to be on the verge of tears. Seb tried his hardest to remain calm. 

“Putting what in his bag?”

“I…”

“Christian, I’m in fucking Brazil. I can’t do anything from here. Tell me what the fuck is going on.” Seb snarled down the phone. Christian didn’t want to say it. He knew how secretive Seb was about that little room. 

“He’s in The Room. He’s got the charts. I’m sorry. He’s taken everything.” Seb dropped the phone on the floor. Mark had turned the tables completely. Now he knew what it was like to have something hanging over his head. But this wouldn’t be hanging for long. Mark had got that stuff and he was going to take it to Fernando. That was it. Game over. Seb couldn’t comprehend how everything had failed so suddenly. Seven careful months of planning and within twenty-four hours it was pointless. His efforts all wasted. Somehow, he got his phone back in his hand and, still staring at the spot across the room from him, he spoke again to a distraught Christian. 

“Alright. This is what we do. Anything that is left I want burnt. Also get me all the CCTV of this morning. I want to see how he got in.”

“He said he just-” Christian started in a broken voice. Seb didn’t have time for it. 

“-Shut up. Get that stuff and then get someone to keep an eye on him. I want to know where he is going, what he is doing and who he is doing it with. If he tries to go to Spain stop him.” Seb breathed. Now he just had to work out his bit. 

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to tell Dasha Mark knows. Hopefully she’ll have enough fear that he’ll ruin what she’s got back with Fernando and freak out. I need to contain this. I need to get to Mark. My best chance is the Gala. We can all make sure he gets nowhere near Fernando that night. That is of top priority. OK? Unless there is anything else you wanted to tell me…” Seb paused but when Christian didn’t say anything he exasperated. “I’ll see you later. I’m coming in to see the damage. No one touch The Room.” Seb ended the call as opened up his app that would show him the activity on Mark’s phone. He gritted his teeth in annoyance. 

Fucker. 

Instantly, he noticed the vacancy of Mark’s name. Fucking Fernando must have deleted it when he cleared off any evidence from the phone. Fuck. Seb deleted the app. There was no need for it anymore. His fingers slide gracefully over the screen as he sent a text to Dasha. 

Mark knows. 

Simple and blunt. That should worry her. Seb got up and took a shower, trying to find some way of getting all that shit back off Mark. He should have burnt it. As soon as he was done with it just canned the lot. He had been too incautious. Too heedless. It had been stupid and now he was paying the price for it. He was annoyed at himself. Why did he tell Mark everything? How could that have possibly ended well for him? He thought he was safe, out of danger of his little plan being disrupted. Now he was on the verge of loosing it all. When he re-emerged from the bathroom, he read the text Dasha had sent back.

Knows what? 

He could almost sense the confusion that would be tinted with worry through her text. He dried himself off and got changed, throwing his things in his back and packing before he returned to the phone that was waiting patiently on the bedside table. 

About the baby. He knows it is not Fernando’s. 

He pushed the phone in his pocket and swung his bag over his shoulder. Giving the room a once over to make sure he hadn’t left anything, he left. He was leaving earlier than he expected to because of this momentous change of plan. He had a new flight to catch.

\- - -

Dasha didn’t reply. Mark had left the room in a state. He had clearly torn through everything taking what he thought would be of use and anything he wasn’t sure about. Seb was annoyed Christian hadn’t stopped him. Heikki would have. Where Heikki had gone off to Seb didn’t know. Or care. He didn’t give the Finn chance to explain when he appeared ten minutes after Seb had entered the little room. The little wrecked room. 

Seb didn’t care. It was pointless now. Mark hadn’t left anything incriminating in the room. He had taken everything that would prove Seb was trying to get Dasha pregnant. The CCTV footage had shown no struggle. Mark had simply walked in. The only thing he had done out of place was smash the door in, though it was clear his intention was to get in the room. Seb didn’t care. 

Without another word to Heikki, Christian or Rocky – who had been waiting at the entrance to try and calm Seb down – Seb left, dropping the now useless key to the little room on the floor amongst the mess and claiming that someone should clear it up. He was fuming. He only had one place he needed to go. 

Pulling up outside Mark’s house he noted his car was in the driveway. So he was in. Seb parked across the front of his drive and got out the car, slamming the door unnecessarily. With long strides he crossed to the door and hammered on it with his fists continuously. He heard the barking of the dogs but didn’t stop. He was trying to get Mark’s attention. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” A voice called down to him. Seb looked up to see Mark hanging out of a window a floor or two above him. His head momentarily disappeared to quiet the dogs and Seb stepped backwards. Mark re-appeared and looked down on him, trying to keep a smile off his face. Seb huffed. 

“Could ask you the same,” he spat up at the Australian. His anger seemed to be making it harder for Mark to keep a straight face. 

“I thought you were going back to Switzerland?” Seb folded his arms and huffed again. Mark coughed, trying to diffuse his laughter. 

“Change of plan.” 

“Ahh. I see. Not going swimmingly anymore then?”

“Come the fuck down here so I can talk to you,” Seb yelled, his anger gripping hold of his voice. 

“No can do, my small, German… associate,” Mark smiled. It irritated Seb.

“Mark I really don’t have time for this.”

“OK then. Bye.” Mark made to shut the window. 

“Wait!” 

“So you do have time?” Mark loved this feeling. It felt like the best revenge in the world. He would have told Fernando, but he wasn’t replying to his texts anymore. That was annoying. He wanted to know what was going on with him, but he couldn’t get hold of him. Maybe Fernando was trying to block him out of his memory. Mark hoped not. 

“I don’t have time for your games, Mark. You know why I’m here.”

“Nope. Not a clue. You like yelling at people in windows?”

“Mark.”

“Why don’t you tell me, or I’ll go back to my reading,” Mark said, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Reading?”

“Yeah, some really interesting charts I picked up today.”

“So you do know why I’ve come.” There was a pause where the smile fell off Mark face and was replaced by a serious expression. Seb met his intense gaze with one that matched. 

“You can’t have it back.”

“I’m not leaving until I do.”

“Set up a tent then,” Mark spat sarcastically. Seb was glad he had stopped with the teasing. This angry Mark was easier to deal with; he was used to him. 

“You know you broke in, right? That’s a criminal offence.”

“It’s not breaking in if I can enter with the codes,” Mark countered. 

“Busted that door pretty easily.”

“And you’re aware it’s illegal to hack someone’s phone.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Seb said with some small joy. 

“I’m sure the police will be interested to see your phone then, should I give them a call?”

“Can do. They won’t find anything.” There was a pause. 

“What?”

“I can’t hack your phone anymore. There’s no evidence I ever did.”

“I don’t understand. Why would you give that up?”

“I didn’t. Blame Fernando for that one.” The casual use of his name sent a shard of ice through Mark’s heart.

“But he’s got some evidence, there will be something in that I can use.”

“And you’re still in contact with him, are you?” Mark went quiet and answered Seb’s question without uttering a word. “Just burn that shit. I don’t want it back.”

“OK.” Mark said, leaning on the windowsill in a bored manner. Seb looked up at him, confused. 

“It was a simple as that?” Mark shrugged. “So what’s the catch?”

“I will burn it. I don’t want it either. Right now it looks like I was planning to get Dasha pregnant. Apart from it’s your scruffy handwriting all over it and you used your letterheads for notes. That wasn’t wise.”

“And why not? I needed paper.”

“It’s got your name on it.”

“I didn’t think anyone was going to get their hands on it, did I? It didn’t matter.”

“Well someone did. What now?”

“She knows you know.” There was another pause in which Mark smiled.

“Thank you.”

“How is that good?”

“She’s got something to worry about for a while, but she won’t be able to deny it when I confront her about it. Cheers, mate.” There was a long period of silence where neither man said anything, they both just looked up at each other, trying to work out what to do next. 

“I will stay here all night.”

“All day, all night. However long you want, mate.” Mark shrugged. Seb thought he could make him give it up. He huffed again. 

“This is fucking ridiculous, Mark.”

“No, Seb, you  made this fucking ridiculous when you went through an enormous amount of planning to get a girl pregnant to fuck with someone’s life. But it’s not just his life you’ve fucked with. It’s his, mine and Dasha’s.” Mark paused to make sure Seb was getting his point. The German just glared up at him. “I heard about Hanna. How you managed to do that whilst planning all this I just don’t know.”

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” Seb lied. He wasn’t in the mood for this. He wanted the things Mark had taken from The Room and then he wanted to leave. 

“Whatever.” Mark was bored of the conversation. “Do what you fucking want, just don’t disturb the dogs again.” Mark spat angrily down at him. With on last glare, Mark pulled the window shut and disappeared back into his room. He settled himself back on the floor and looked down at the pile of stuff he had been pealing through before Seb appeared. All of it was Fernando’s. He didn’t know what to do with it all. Little things he had accidently left in Mark’s hotel room over race weekends. Little things he had left in Mark’s house when he had visited. Little things Mark had accidently picked up from Fernando’s that he had mistaken as his own stuff. And he was just looking at it, remembering. It was stupid. He was making himself feel worse. It had hurt when he had tipped his bag out from Brazil, completely forgetting about the blue box with the red velvet and the gold band ring until it toppled onto the floor, landing on top of one of Fernando’s shirts Mark had taken to wearing when the Spaniard wasn’t here. It had hurt. And then Seb had turned up. He was only just starting to calm down when the German arrived. He sighed. Pulling on the blue shirt that smelt more like him now than it did of Fernando, he curled up on his bed and checked, again, to see if Fernando had replied. Nothing. Mark closed his eye with a deep sigh. 

Sebastian stayed for about an hour. He sat on the doorstep of Mark’s house with his head in his hands. It had got to the point now where he believed Mark had probably forgotten he was outside. He contemplated hammering on the door, but he couldn’t find the energy to try and piss Mark off again. He walked over to his car without even a glance at the house. He drove of towards the airport, deciding that by now, Hanna would probably be panicking. He didn’t want two panicking pregnant women on his hands…


	27. Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I found myself getting more publicly shy when the gala events and big crowds started. Some people embrace it. To me, it's not worth enough to risk my private life being public.”  
> ~Matt Damon~

It had all been fine. He had not been thinking about any of it, just getting on with his training, getting on with the work Ferrari wanted him to do, getting on with Dasha. Maybe it could have been a simple, uncomplicated life. Maybe he could have made it work. Fernando had been getting into the routine of getting up, kissing her on the forehead and getting her breakfast, telling her not to exert herself. As she ate, he would run. And when he got back he would shower and ask her what she had planned for the day. Then they would do their own thing and regroup for dinner, which Fernando cooked. They would share stories about their day and smile at each other. He had opened his exhibition in Madrid and it was wonderful to see the support it had got so far. Dasha had been holding his arm that day and smiled sweetly to all of the people who wanted to talk to Fernando. She never left his side and he never left hers. Maybe that was because he had never had the experience of a pregnant woman before and didn’t know how much he would need to help her. Maybe he wanted to be supportive of her. Or maybe he just liked the feeling that someone was there to catch him if he ever did fall. Even if it did feel like she was his pregnant housemate rather than his pregnant girlfriend at least it was bearable. He had managed to not think about Mark since he had left Brazil and was getting used to that feeling in his stomach that something was constantly missing from his life. 

Until he arrived in France and, of course, the guy that was checking in at the front desk was Mark. 

Fernando made an excuse to Dasha about having to leave to get something from the car. She frowned at him until her eyes fell on the back of the Australian and she nodded. She took her opportunity. Leaving their bags piled by the door, she crossed the lobby and stopped Mark, just before he reached the lift, with a gentle touch on his shoulder. Mark frowned as he turned round, but in discovering Dasha his face became a confusion of conflicting emotions. 

“Mark, can I-?”

“-Where is he?” Mark said in a clipped tone, looking over Dasha and across the lobby. He didn’t know what he would do the first time he saw Fernando. He would want to pull him close and never let go, but it appeared that wasn’t going to be the case. 

“He’s gone out to the car… He forgot something,” Dasha said in a small voice. Mark looked down on her and knew the real reason for Fernando’s disappearance. He felt that burn of pain in his heart again and had to fight against all of his instincts to rush out of the hotel and find him. 

“Whose kid your carrying, maybe?” Mark spat. Dasha expected it. She wanted Mark to be angry; then she could be the one to make him happy. 

“Mark, please,” Dasha took his elbow and walked him out of sight of the front door behind a pillar, lowering her voice. “I know. I feel terrible-”

“-But not terrible enough to tell him the truth?” Dasha swallowed. 

“It’s not that easy, I’ve already told him it’s his. I can’t confuse him like that. I need to work out how to tell him diplomatically.” Mark’s hand that was holding his rucksack strap on his shoulder flinched. He would burn it, just like Seb asked, once he was done with it. That was the catch he forgot to mention. But now was not the time to show Dasha the contents, show her exactly what Seb had done in order to make sure she was pregnant. Not yet. He would find the correct time. 

“Good. Well if you get a chance between all that planning Seb and you do, tell him to check his fucking phone.” Mark snarled as he made to move away again. Dasha’s grip of his elbow tightened. She almost didn’t have the heart to tell him. But she had to. 

“I don’t plan with Seb… And… I’m sorry…” Dasha said, looking down to the floor. Mark frowned at her. 

“Why are you sorry?” He asked sceptically. What on earth had Seb done now?

“He… He had your number blocked. Fernando… He asked me to do it when we got back from Brazil. He found some instructions online and told me to do it. I’m sorry, Mark, I really am. I feel horrible. I see how you make each other-”

“-Good. Well that’s… Yeah, good… Glad he’s moving forwards.” Mark said sharply. He didn’t want to let Dasha finish her sentence. Her words were not making sense to him anymore. He wanted to crumple. Just lie on the floor of the lobby and let people walk over him. Fernando had blocked his number? He wanted to find Fernando and yell at him. He wanted to push the strands of Fernando’s hair through his fingers and cup his face. He wanted to punch Seb. He wanted to scream at Dasha, but he could bring himself to do anything. He just stood in disbelief. In disbelief at how easily Fernando appeared to move on. Dasha read it all in his eyes. Mark was such an open person anyway, but in this vulnerable stance it was clear for anyone to see. She wanted to be sick. She hated herself. 

“Mark. No. You don’t know. You have no idea what it has been like with him these past few weeks.”

“But you do. That’s good. Glad he’s happy.” Mark’s voice was distant. 

“But he’s not, Mark! It’s like he just exists. There is nothing. He’s not anyone anymore. He has a monotonous routine he goes through every day at the same pace. Nothing. No variety, no surprises. Mark, he needs you. He needs you like he needs air to breathe.” Dasha had gripped the front of Mark’s shirt in a desperate attempt to make him realise what she was trying to say. His eyes were still glazed over. He couldn’t function her words because he believed he was dreaming. Dasha couldn’t be OK with this. Not after everything they went through. This was some cruel twist of fate. Maybe he was awake; it would make sense for this horror to be a reality. 

“You’re not making sense,” Mark stated, looking into her eyes. She touched his hand gently, giving him a smile. 

“I am, Mark. Because I don’t want him here just for the bump. Even though he denies it I know that’s the only reason he left you. He feels obliged to stay. But it’s not his. He doesn’t have to. And I don’t want him to. Because of they way you complete each-”

“-Dasha, please don’t-”

“-No. You have to hear it and you have to hear it from me. He loves you, Mark. My god, he loves you so much he doesn’t know what to be without you. I’m his friend. I will never be anything more than that ever again. Because he’s got you. I’ve never been happier for him. Because he’s found his soul mate.” Dasha’s eyes were brimming with tears and Mark was trying to work out whether it was her pregnancy hormones or if she was really this touched by what Fernando and he had had.

Had. That was the optimum word. 

“But this kid. You still told him it was yours.”

“Seb said-”

“-That’s a fucking joke, right?” Mark’s tone had turned angry again and the sudden change made Dasha shrink back a little. She shook her head slightly. 

“He said it was for the best. I was scared at the time, Mark. I didn’t know what you had.” Mark’s jaw was locked in anger. The fucking bastard. Dasha touched his face and it seemed to relax him a little. He looked down at her and remembered her words. How in love with her words she had been. “I want to help you, Mark.” Mark blinked. 

“I don’t understand.”

“I want to help you get Fernando back. I want you to help me break the news that I lied. Whatever the cost for me. I don’t care anymore. If he’s angry, it will subside eventually. But him not having this,” Dasha stroked the line of his jaw with her thumb and Mark almost forgot who it was, closing his eyes. So intimate. He wanted it to be Fernando when he opened his eyes. “It would be worse than me having done what I have done.” Mark stepped out of her touch, wanting to make sure he understood her. 

“You’ll mess with his emotions,” Mark stated. Dasha nodded. “And take something away from him that he has already accepted and begun to love.”

“But I will give him something so much better in return. I will give him back to you.” Dasha smiled. After everything that had happened. Every lie Seb had told her about him or every time Seb had set something up for Mark to get him away from Fernando’s girlfriend. After all of that and the two of them understood each other perfectly. They wanted the same thing: they wanted Fernando to be happy. He hugged her and muttered his thanks in her ear. He wanted to help her to. In whatever she decided for her child, it would be loved. By all of them. But for now the focus was on clearing up the mess Seb had created by using the two of them. And it was right that it was the two of them, together, that would sort it out. Dasha left Mark to go to his own room and went back over to their bags. Fernando came back in a few minutes after she had sat on his bag. 

“Ready?” He smiled gently, holding out his hand for Dasha to take it. She returned his smile and took his hand, letting herself be pulled up. She didn’t like the feel of his palm against hers anymore; it felt like she was stealing moments that belonged to someone else. Belonged to Mark. But it wouldn’t be much longer now. Her smile brightened as she imagined his face when he could be reunited with Mark. To her, it all seemed so simple: Fernando would hate her for a while for lying, but he would have Mark. She had no idea how this revelation would mentally scar him…

\- - -

Dasha was lying on the bed on her stomach with her legs crossed in mid air. Fernando was sitting on an armchair by the window and looking out of it into the night. Dasha was on her phone. She had taken Fernando’s whilst he was in the shower – after doing some training in the hotel gym – and found Mark’s number. She enjoyed texting Mark; it made her feel she was on the path back to normality. Her conversation with the Australian was interrupted by another text. She frowned as she read Seb’s message. 

Don’t tell Fernando.

It was as if he had read her mind. Stupidly, she still trusted the German enough to tell him everything. 

I don’t want to lie anymore. I want him to be happy.

She was trying to make him see her side of things. He wouldn’t take it.

He will be when the baby arrives. Do. Not. Tell. Him.

She was getting angry at him now. What did he know? He couldn’t know of Mark and Fernando properly if he thought it was best to keep them apart. 

Seb, you’re wrong. He will never be happy with me. Not again. I’m not the one he wants to be with and I feel bad for holding him here when it’s not even his! I’m going to tell him.

Seb’s reply came pretty fast. 

I don’t know what lies Mark has been putting in your head but it’s bollocks, all of it! He wants Fernando for himself! He doesn’t give a shit about you or the kid!

As Dasha was typing her own reply, Seb sent a second text. 

Or Fernando.

The two, small insignificant words stopped her. She didn’t understand. Mark had been so in love with Fernando… Unless that was an act. No… Could it be?

You need to explain. 

She sent her reply and looked over at Fernando. He sighed deeply, his attention solely out of the window. Dasha just wanted him to be happy again. To smile. It seemed that was too much to ask anymore. As she received a new message she looked back to her phone. 

Come to my room. It’s easier to say than type.

Dasha got up and crossed to pull on her shoes. She didn’t think Fernando would be any wiser if she had left the room. She pushed her phone into her pocket and picked up the spare room key. 

“Going to see Sebastian?” Fernando sighed from his seat at the window. When Dasha looked over to him he was looking back at her, as if he had been watching her for an age. She blushed. 

“No, I-”

“-Dash, it’s fine. I’m no fun to be around at the moment. I know… I just…” Fernando looked back out the window, pulling his knees into his chest. “Wasn’t ready to see him…” Dasha crossed the room and caught his face in her hands. 

“That’s OK, Fernando. You have no idea-”

“-You don’t have to say it all again, Dash.” Fernando had grown sick of her recycled words about Mark. He didn’t know what she was trying to achieve with them. He couldn’t go back to him and her words just hurt. Her cryptic messages about lies weren’t helpful either. She was either trying to tell him she had lied or was constantly reminding him that he had lied. He went for the latter; what would Dasha have to lie about anymore? “Just go. It’s fine.”

“Will you be alright?”

“Yeah. I’ll probably just go to bed. Say hi to Sebastian from me.” Fernando said, standing and placing a gently, friendly kiss on Dasha’s forehead. She smiled at him and left the room, feeling worse with every step she took. But she was going to Seb for Fernando’s sake this time. She had to know what he had meant. 

Fernando knew this moping was pointless but he seemed to be stuck in a state he couldn’t climb away from. It was closing in on him constantly, choking any good feeling he could have until it just depressed him. He had been fine, in a good headspace, but now Mark had shown…And Fernando should have been prepared for it; he knew he had come third over all. Somehow, in the light of all the things that had happened since that final race, he had lost track of the result. His life had become focused on the things he needed to do, rather than everyone else. 

After twenty minutes of staring at the ceiling and working his head into the biggest knot imaginable, he pushed himself up and left the room. He walked outside the hotel and took a deep breath of the French air. He needed to clear his head. Somehow. He had taken four or five steps away from the hotel when he heard it. 

“Fernando.” 

Had he been waiting? Had Fernando’s movements become that predictable in his comatose state? He pretended he didn’t hear it and carried on walking. Though it was a lot harder to ignore someone’s grip rather than their voice. He still didn’t turn around as the hand prevented him from moving forwards. He couldn’t. 

“Are you seriously going to make me talk to the back of your head?” He asked, his grip not releasing Fernando’s wrist. And Fernando would have bit back in a sarcastic voice, or tugged his arm free and walked on if he had had the strength. Maybe he had had to walk away once, but he knew he would never be able to do it again. That was why he had been avoiding this conversation. “Fernando.” The Australian accent alone almost made him spin round and throw his arms around his neck. It was too much. All together in this small, concentrated moment. His touch. His voice. His accent. Fernando couldn’t escape any of it. The things he had managed to push from his mind entirely came rolling back into his head. Everything he had given up for a stinking kid. He screwed his eyes and tried to think of something else. 

“We’re not playing this game. This can’t happen anymore, OK? So you’re going to turn around and look at me, even if that’s all you do before you walk on. I don’t care, Fernando. I can’t have this conversation alone.” Mark’s voice was like it always was. Though it sounded tired. Fernando didn’t know what Mark looked like now. Was he clean-shaven of had he grown a beard? Were his eyes brimming with tears, like Fernando’s would be if he let himself open them, or was he calm? Was his stilled tone hiding feelings that were written all over his face? Fernando’s last recollection of Mark’s face was heart breaking: tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. A voice that was so tired… So deflated. Fernando couldn’t face it again. He remained still. 

“Please.” Mark’s voice broke on the small word and it took everything in Fernando’s body not to collapse into his arms. Beg Mark to forgive him because he just couldn’t face the world on his own. Not without him. And that thought was even more terrifying than anything else. How much he really did rely on Mark. How much that broken voice killed him. How it was taking everything he had to not turn around. But he couldn’t take it anymore. He felt like he was about to explode. Mark’s hand that wasn’t on his wrist brushed the sensitive skin of his neck and he threw himself back inside the hotel. 

Fernando ran, because he knew Mark would be following him. And he needed to beat Mark to where he was going. He wanted that fear. That sense of being so scared it over powered any other feeling he could possibly have. He reached the lift and smashed his hand into the button. They were quick lifts and so an empty one appeared in no time. As he dove in, he realised the space was extremely confined, so only one or two people could fit in it comfortably. And he could feel his breath quickening and his instincts trying to take over; to get him out before the door shut. 

“FERNANDO!” Mark yelled and Fernando saw his face, if only briefly, as the doors shut. And it broke his heart. Again. He had hurt Mark again. And he hated himself. Hated his own stupidity. He wanted a way out. He wanted this pain to be over. He couldn’t take anymore. Mark slammed his palm on the closed, golden door in anger as Fernando rose up, away from him. Inside the small box, Fernando ripped open the button panel and forced himself to stop the lift. He had seen some character do it on a romantic film Dasha had once watched with him. He was happily surprised that it worked and as the walls pressed in on him, shutting his ears off to any other sounds but the sounds of his own breath, he sank to the floor holing his head in his hands and pulling his knees close, rocking himself gently. 

\- - -

“Please. You don’t understand how important this is!” Mark was pleading with a frustrated French woman behind the front desk. She puffed a breath out which made her fringe fly up from her face. 

“Am sorry, Sir, but zere is nothing I can do. Someone ‘as stopped the leeft and we are trying to get zem moving again. Until zat time, ze stairs are available.” Mark couldn’t believe it. He was going to hang, draw and fucking quarter Sebastian Vettel. Twice? The same charade twice?

“Someone stopped the lift?”

“Oui, Sir. Sorry for any inconvineince.”

“But who? Do you know?” The woman gave him a strange look and cleared her throat. 

“Eet was stopped from inside ze leeft.” Mark blinked. 

“Inside?”

“Oui,” the phone rang and the woman looked more than please to leave Mark. “Excuse me,” She smiled, reaching for the phone.

“Wait!” Mark caught her wrist gently to gain her attention. Once he had it he let go. She frowned at him as one of her colleges got the phone. She didn’t try and hide her irritation. “At least can you give me the room number of Fernando Alonso?”

“Non. Zez is confidential. Cannot just give eet out,”

“But I’m his friend. I’m another driver – Mark Webber?” The woman gave him a once over before she rolled her eyes and consulted a file on her computer. Mark waited, tapping his foot impatiently. When he caught himself doing it, he stopped; the action reminded him too much of Christian. 

“Room 314.” The woman suddenly said in a clipped tone. Mark nodded and called his thanks as he headed for the stairs. He would just wait outside. If Fernando had trapped himself in a lift to get away from Mark then this was bad. Beyond bad. Mark couldn’t even begin to imagine what must be going on in his head. He took the stairs two at a time, his desperation to see Fernando burning stronger the closer to his room he got. He slid down the wall to the left of Fernando’s door, sitting himself on the carpet, and waited. He would wait for as long as he needed to; he needed to see him. Even if that meant all night. 

After what felt like forever, he heard the conventional ding of the lift and sat up eagerly. He was disappointed when Dasha arrived around the corner, but he stood himself up anyway. Her face turned from a confused frown to pure anger when her eyes fell on Mark. Mark passed over it, claiming it was irrelevant. 

“Dasha have you seen Fernando this evening?” Mark asked, not trying to hide the desperation in his voice. Dasha scoffed at him as she extracted her key card. Now it was Mark’s turn to frown. 

“This is a nice touch. You can drop the act now, though. I know.” She said, focusing on the key, through gritted teeth. 

“What? What act?” Dasha looked up at him as if he were despicable. 

“Why can’t you leave him alone? I don’t get it. I thought you were his friend.”

“Dasha I don’t have a fucking clue what you are talking about but Fernando has trapped himself-”

“-The lifts are all moving fine now. He went for a walk. That’s what his text said.” Dasha said, giving up on the door and folding her arms, turning to face Mark. “And don’t give me that crap. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Mark paused, trying to think to what she might mean. He came up with nothing. 

“I thought we were both after the same thing here. That we were going to help each other.”

“Evidently not.” Dasha stated in a furious tone. Mark, again, was trying to understand what she meant. 

“I want Fernando to be happy again.”

“As do I.” Mark shook his head slightly, confused by her contradicting statements. 

“Then are we not after the same thing?”

“Seb told me what you told him, Mark. We don’t want the same thing.” Mark’s jaw locked. Of course Seb had fucked this over. Mark made a mental note to check who was around him when he next spoke to someone in public. Seb had obviously sent someone to eavesdrop Dasha and his conversation from the lobby. 

“Dasha, what ever Seb has told you is a lie.”

“Apparently not. He said he thought you two were secretly together and he was right. Why should I not believe him again?”

“He’s the one playing the act! He’s the one playing the games! He’s the one who got you pregnant!”

“Thanks, Mark. Yell a little louder, there’s a guest in the underground car park who didn’t quite catch it,” Dasha shot sarcastically. 

“You know what? Fine. Fuck you. You’ll see I’m right. Tell Fernando I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause him any pain. As for you, stay the fuck away from me because you don’t know me and if you believe the shit that Seb tells you then fuck it. He’s playing a whole other game you don’t even know about.” Mark spat, turning around and walking towards the stairs. 

“Then what fucking games are you playing, Mark?” Dasha yelled after him. She got no reply. Mark was already on his way to Seb’s room. Three solid knocks and the door was opened by Heikki. Heikki opened his mouth to speak, but Mark just pushed past him. Seb was lying on his stomach in the middle of the bed, swinging his legs in the air and resting his hands under his chin. 

“You know, I just said to Heikki I wonder how long it would be until you showed up,” Seb commented, looking up at the raging form of the Australian. Mark folded his arms. “What do you want to know now?” Mark was slightly confused. 

“You’re really just going to hand over information after what I did with the last batch of stuff you told me?”

“You burnt all that paper. You said you didn’t want it, right?” Seb asked with a curious expression. 

“Yes.” Mark lied easily. Seb smiled. 

“Good. Then what do you want to know?”

“Who did you send to spy on my conversation with Dasha?”

“Rocky was down there with a phone. He called Heikki and I and we listened from up here.” Seb tapped a notepad that was lying on the bed beside him. “We made good notes. Heikki’s a quick writer.”

“Her words about your relationship were sweet,” Heikki mocked from the edge of the room. Mark shot him a dark look as Seb got up. 

“Really? They made me feel sick.”

“That’s because you don’t get it. You just go around and fuck people and to hell with the consequences. At least you know it works,” Mark added with a flick of his eyes down to Seb’s crotch. 

“Anything else? I have some questions of my own.”

“What did you tell Dasha?”

“I told her you told me you just wanted Fernando back because he was a good fuck. Said that you were pretending to be madly in love with him to win her sympathy but you didn’t really give a shit about him. You only wanted him for a month or so and then you were going to move on.” Mark crossed the room and fell back on the bed, his back making painful – but planned – contact with the notepad Seb had referenced earlier. 

“You’re a fucking dick, you know that.”

“You can have him in nine months time,” Seb shrugged, walking across the room to Heikki. “If he wants you.”

“You just don’t see it, do you? You think this is all some funny little game to gain respect. You don’t actually realise what you’ve done.” Mark sat up as he spoke. 

“I’ve done what I wanted to, anything else is just an added bonus.”

“You know you’re worthless, right?”

“Not what all the awards say. They say I’m the best. And so will he.” Mark got up and headed for the door. “Wait.” Seb said and Mark froze. He turned to look at the German with sceptical eyes. “I have a question.”

“I’m not answering it.”

“How is that fair?”

“How is anything you have done fair?” Mark countered. Seb looked at Heikki for some help. “Did we make an agreement to exchange information?” 

“No.”

“Then fuck you.” Mark said and he let himself out of the room. He made his way to his own room and only when he was safely inside did he pull the notepad from the back of his trousers and look through it. Perfect. It proved Mark couldn’t be involved. He put it in the rucksack with all of Sebastian’s charts and tables and zipped it up, hiding it again in a drawer. Tomorrow. After the Gala. That was the right time. That was when he would release the truth. For Fernando. To give him some peace of mind. The decisions were then up to him. Mark smiled as he fell into a peaceful sleep. 

\- - - - -

It had been too easy to forget. Mark was annoyed at that fact. It hadn’t been that long. Or maybe it had. Maybe it had been a while since he had last seen Fernando in a suit. Maybe that was why he had forgotten. Maybe that was why he couldn’t stop staring. The clean contrast of the dark suit and the crisp white shirt. Mark found himself fantasising about what lay under the pressed folds of the white material. How the soft feel of said material would make him feel as he ran in through his fingers. Or how the blush of Fernando’s caramel skin would show disparity against the pure colour of that shirt. He wondered if maybe Fernando’s shirt would hold close to his muscular torso and present it in a way that would prove irresistible. He found himself wishing he would take off his jacket. But he also found himself wishing he would keep it on. 

Dasha was always there though. Mark couldn’t get anywhere close to him. Her hand was clamped to his and he let her lead him to his table and took his seat quietly. Mark hadn’t seen him since he had disappeared into that lift, and he himself had been left banging stupidly on the golden doors. It was nice to actually be able to see Fernando’s face. But Mark wanted to hear his voice. 

Every now and then, Mark would catch Dasha’s eye and notice her glaring at him. He would blush slightly and look away from Fernando, but it didn’t last long. He felt as if he were addicted to his appearance. He couldn’t look away for too long in case it disappeared and he never saw it again. It was when he looked back over to see Dasha cupping Fernando’s face and obviously muttering reassuring words to him he couldn’t look. It hurt too much. He wanted to be the one reassuring Fernando. He wanted to be the one cupping his face. He looked down at the table and turned his back to them. Dasha glanced at him, feeling satisfied. She left Fernando’s hand on the table. 

“You need to forget it now.” Her voice was still clipped and hiding her anger, just like it had been when she was touching Fernando’s face. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, she was looking at Mark. Fernando frowned at her, confused by the softness of her touch but the harshness of her voice. 

“I can’t follow you,” He exasperated. She still didn’t look at him. “One minute you’re all caring and kind and the next you telling me what to fucking do.”

“Keep your voice down,” She hissed at him, finally looking back. She had folded her arms. 

“There you go again, telling me what to do.” Fernando muttered back. Andrea was standing a little way from them at the table and had picked up on the tone of his driver’s voice. Although the Italian was smiling and nodding at whom he was talking to, he concentration was on Fernando. 

“I’m not telling you what to do, Fernando, but if you don’t stop mopping around people are going to notice something is wrong.” Dasha dropped her voice to a whisper and Fernando matched it. “I know you don’t want this kid-”

“-You don’t have a clue, Dasha. It’s my kid and I do want it. It may not have been planned but we have it now and I plan on doing everything I can for it.” Dasha swallowed as Fernando looked off ahead of him. His eyes, unfortunately falling on the hunched over back of Mark. Fernando dragged his eyes away, an odd anger sweeping through him and corrupting his voice. “I’m here aren’t I.”

“But that’s the only reason,” Dasha continued. “The only reason you are sitting here and not over there is because of this kid. But you’ve got to understand, Fernando. There are things you don’t know about him. It’s best you just forget all that stuff and focus on what you’ve got for the future.” There was a pause where Fernando looked at her in a confused manner. 

“What don’t I know?” Fernando asked sceptically. Dasha blushed. 

“Huh?”

“What don’t I know?”

“Well… There are many things you don’t know; why a table is called a table, what the tyres will be like next year-” Fernando turned so he was facing Dasha and took her arm. 

“What don’t I know about him, Dasha?” His voice was quiet but stern. Dasha swallowed. 

“Err…”

“I thought you’d at least look a bit smarter now you’re happily driving around in a red car,” Fernando looked up to the sound of the new voice. His anger vanished. A smile slid on his face. How could it not when Robert Kubica was smiling down at him? He got up and his smile got wider. He extended his hand, leaving Dasha alone at the table. 

“I hope you haven’t been sent over here to tell me you’re replacing me next year,” Fernando joked, smiling radiantly at Robert. The memories of their first introduction, how proud Robert had been to be taking Fernando’s seat, promising he would try his best not to let him down. It had been too long since Fernando had seen the Polish man and he was relieved to be given something from the past. Something that seemed normal. Robert didn’t take Fernando’s hand. He pushed it away. 

“Fucking hell, Fernando. I haven’t been that formal in years,” Robert laughed, pulling the Spaniard into a hug. Fernando found himself clinging onto Robert, not wanting to let this normality slip through his fingers. So much had changed since he last saw this man. The way he could make Fernando smile without even trying was a huge comfort in this complex and bizarre time of his life. Reluctantly, he let Robert slid out of his grip. 

“It’s black tie. Thought you’d want to show a bit of decorum.” Fernando smiled. 

“I’m only formal with doctors, and that’s only because they scare the shit out of me. A bit of bromance is healthy in every mans life,” Robert smiled, clapping Fernando on the shoulder. Fernando could feel the muscles in his face relax at being allowed to smile properly again. “I thought you’d be used to it coming from Spain and working in Italy,”

“I am. It’s fine.” Fernando smiled. He paused, just taking in the beaming face of his could-have-been teammate. “It’s been too long, Robert,” 

“That’s what happens when you are a high-flying, at the top of your career Formula One driver.” Robert smiled. Dasha had been sitting quietly, watching Fernando’s encounter with the man she didn’t know and had never seen before. Robert’s eyes fell on her and he indicated to her with his eyes to Fernando. Fernando blushed slightly. 

“Oh, sorry. Robert, this is Dasha Kapustina and Dasha, This is Robert Kubica.” Fernando gestured to each of them with his hand and Robert lent down, kissing Dasha on each cheek. He took her hand gently in his and she blushed. 

“It is very nice to meet you, Miss Kapustina. I hope you’re keeping him in line,” Robert joked. Fernando felt the blood run to his cheeks. If only you knew what had happened over the past few months, Robert. You wouldn’t believe it.  Dasha just smiled sweetly. 

“He’s been very good to me,” Dasha said. Fernando was suddenly overcome with an uncomfortableness. He didn’t like these two parts of his life interfering. It was weird to have Robert, his friend, conversing with Dasha, the woman he was stuck with. He wished he hadn’t introduced them. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I take him off your hands for a little while,” Robert said. Fernando sighed in relief. 

“Not at all. As long as I get him back in one piece,” 

“I will try.” Robert smiled. He placed a thanking kiss on the back of Dasha’s hand and straightened up, gesturing to Fernando to walk in front. Once they were clear of the table Fernando fell into step beside Robert and let him lead the way. “She seems very pleasant.” Robert commented. 

“Yeah…” Fernando said, forcing himself not to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck.

“Not the type I would have put you with.” Fernando looked over at the puzzled face Robert had on. 

“No?”

“No. She seems a little too…” Robert gave Fernando a fleeting look before placing his usual smile back on his face. “I’m probably wrong. You seem happy together.” He lied. Fernando stopped him walking, his face turned serious. 

“She seems a little too what?” Robert swallowed. 

“Nothing. If she makes you happy then that is all that matters.”

“She doesn’t.” Fernando muttered, moving a little closer to Robert as someone walked past. 

“You didn’t look to be having friendly conversation when I came over.” Robert agreed.

“A little too what?” Fernando pressed. 

“Too much. She doesn’t seem to want to leave you alone. It’s as if she’s worried you’re going to go off and do something…” Robert paused as Fernando nodded.

“Sounds about right.” Fernando said, causing Robert to frown. He quickly replaced it with a smile and placed a hand on Fernando’s arm.

“Smile. Pretend I made a joke.”

“What?”

“She’s still watching us.” Robert grinned. Fernando matched it and let Robert lead him onwards, turning their backs to Dasha. Robert continued to mutter to him in a worried manner as they walked. “If you’re not happy why are you still there?” They came to another stop, but this time it was planned. Fernando didn’t want to drag Robert into this present he was living. He begged to have that relieving feeling of everything being OK again, like it was in the past. He wanted to loose himself in the past. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Fernando shrugged, folding his arms and turning so he was standing in front of Robert. “What did you want me for?” Robert could see Fernando wasn’t going into any more detail, but he had an idea of his own as to why Fernando had to stay with Dasha. He shrugged it off. 

“I thought you would be interested to see this,” Robert smiled; presenting the Audi R18 E-Tron that had been placed in the middle of the room. Fernando looked over at it. He was interested. It was interesting to be able to get this close to a car from another classification, too see exactly what other drivers in this room had to work with. Robert smiled as he saw the intrigue in Fernando’s eyes. “Winner of the World Endurance Championship,” Robert said in a proud tone. Not that he had won it in, but it felt almost mystical to be in the presence of a Championship-winning car. “Webber will be racing something similar next year.” 

Fernando just nodded, trying to ignore the jolt of sadness that threatened to pulse through him at the casual use of Mark’s name. He just looked down at the car, taking in the shape. The use of the carbon fibre to create the aerodynamic bodywork. Robert patted his shoulder as he turned to move away, being ushered over the other side of the room by someone he knew. 

“We’ll catch up later,” Robert smiled as he disappeared. Fernando nodded again and focused on the car rather than the thoughts that were fighting for his attention. It made him think of the future, looking down at this car. What would come after Formula One? He could, alike Mark (though he tried with all his power not to think about him), go into the World Endurance Championship. Though there were other divisions. He could go into GT and stay with Ferrari. Or he could leave motor racing all together, transfer to some other sport. Or maybe, with his kid on the way, he would go into a managerial job. Still to stay in touch with his passion, the thing he loved doing the most in the world, but in a safe way. Maybe this kid would mellow him and he would start to worry about risks. That would affect his racing. How was he supposed to win another World Championship if he was worrying about his kid and what would happen if something happened to him? He thought of Kubica, how that one accident had changed his life forever. Maybe Fernando’s accident, although on a less grand scale than Kubica’s, had changed his life forever. Maybe he would have to give up his racing. 

“Fernando.” Andrea muttered in his ear. Fernando was relieved to hear his comforting voice, but his tone was worrying. “You’ve been standing staring at this car for five minutes and now you look like you’re on the verge of tears.” Fernando nodded and cleared his throat. He gave Andrea a smile which made the Italian look a little more relieved. “What wrong?”

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

“Whatever it was, don’t think about it again.” Andrea said. Fernando turned to face him. 

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Fernando smiled. Andrea still wore his worried expression. 

“What’s wrong?” Fernando blinked.

“Nothing.”

“You were having a heated discussion with Dasha earlier and you’re doing everything in your power to not look at Mark. People are confused. You’re supposed to be friends…” Andrea was watching Fernando closely. Fernando took his eyes back to the car. “Something has happened.” 

“Isn’t it interesting how the imbed the wheels into the bodywork?” Fernando commented, moving round to the side of the car. Andrea frowned at him. 

“Fernando, what happened?”

“Because if you did that with a Formula One car it would never work. Pit stops would be too long. And you’d loose all aerodynamic qualities at the front,” Fernando crouched down at the wheel, scrutinising the arch of the bodywork where the tyre sat snugly. Andrea came over and joined him. Fernando was putting up an act, so Andrea went along with it. 

“Well, they have longer stops, no? They have to change drivers so they can afford to have a longer tyre change.”

“It looks a lot more aerodynamic than if you had to tyres to try and work the air around. Because the air is not thrown out, they don’t have to try and bring it back to the body of the car.”

“Yes, but like you said, that wouldn’t work in F1; too much time. That’s why we use the front wing, to re-direct the air around the tyre.”

“Until next year,” Fernando commented, giving Andrea a side-glance. Andrea shrugged and Fernando got up. He walked to the back of the car, inspecting the back tyres. It was the same principle. Fernando knew Andrea wanted to talk about what had happened, but Fernando couldn’t do it. For one, it was still too hard for him to hear Mark’s name, let alone talk about him, and secondly, there were too many cameras and people around; too much chance of being overheard. 

Fernando crouched down at the back tyre and got out his phone. He had been right about too many people being around. As he settled himself to take a picture of the tyre in the wheel arch he flicked his eyes to the right and saw a cameraman filming him. He would have shaken his head if he weren’t being recorded. He took the picture and Andrea came back over. 

“Fernando, what hap-?”

“-Not now. I cannot say now. It’s not the right time.” Fernando muttered, standing up and showing Andrea the photo with a smile. It was a cover-up. He didn’t know if Andrea really wanted to see the photo. The Italian nodded and they both looked at the cogpit. It seemed incredibly small. Fernando vaguely wondered whether Mark would fit inside. But swiftly pushed the thought from his mind when a hundred others about Mark emerged. 

“Is small.” Fernando commented, putting his phone away. Andrea nodded and pressed his face to the window, implying Fernando should do the same. With such a close proximity to each other, Andrea took the opportunity to request one last piece of information from Fernando. 

“Does she know about Mark and you?” He whispered frantically in Fernando’s ear. As they straightened up, Andrea watched Fernando nod. If Dasha knew but Fernando was still with her, there was really only one logical explanation as to why. Andrea shook his head slightly, but Fernando didn’t notice. At that point two other men had come over and started joking with Fernando about his interest in the Audi. Andrea left him, heading off to find Dasha. He knew Fernando would hate him for it, but in the long run it was for the best. Andrea needed to know he was right and find out when and how. Not that he needed any private details but he just couldn’t imagine Fernando cheating on Mark, which lead him to a second and more concerning question.

Mark took his chance. He had watched Robert walk Fernando over to the Audi and he hadn’t taken his eyes off him. He put his napkin on the table and excused himself from the conversation Christian and someone whose name he couldn’t remember were having. Not that he was involved with it; he had been watching Fernando. With long, quick strides he crossed the room until he was standing behind him, glad the Spaniard hadn’t seen him coming. He waited for Fernando to stop talking to the two men. Fernando was smiling when he turned around to head back to his table. That didn’t last long when his eyes fell on Mark. Fernando didn’t know what to do. If he stayed, Mark would talk. Just like he had done the night before when Fernando had wanted to go for a walk. But if he stayed there was also the possibility that he would break down here in front of all of these people. And that wouldn’t help anyone. 

“Excuse me,” Fernando said, looking at the floor and making to move around Mark. Mark caught his arm as he past.

“Fernando.”

“I need to go back. Now. My table. I need to-” Fernando was trying to form coherent sentences but his brain was muddled. He had not been ready for this. 

“-They’ll be fine without you for five minutes.”

“Please…” Fernando’s voice was quiet and begging. He swallowed deeply and forced himself to say that one, four lettered word that was causing him so much pain. “Mark.” Mark’s heart broke. He wanted to tell him, so badly wanted to tell him. And that hurt and pain in Fernando’s voice made his decision. Thinking nothing of consequences, he pulled Fernando out of view into a back corner of the room. No one seemed to notice. No one seemed to care. He stopped and Fernando still seemed to not know what to do with himself. 

“Fernando, you’ve got to listen to me. I know what I am about to say is going to be difficult to believe, but I need you to trust me. If you can still do that.” Mark’s voice was soft and caring. He had intended his last comment to be taken as the possibility of Fernando not being able to trust him because Mark felt he had lied to him by not telling him sooner. Fernando didn’t get that in his tone. His comment hurt. It felt like Mark was claiming their trust had been broken because Fernando had done the right thing by his child. 

“Unbelievable.” Fernando breathed, finally looking at Mark’s face. He had shaved recently; the smooth skin across his chin was too fresh. His eyes were tired, however much he had tried to hide it. He looked knackered and his strong cheekbones that had always made Mark look powerful to Fernando now gave him the essence of a corpse. It was horrible to see. Fernando looked at the floor again, clenching his fists to force himself not to pull them around Mark. Mark was frowning at him. 

“What?”

“You think I do not trust you.” Fernando snarled at the floor. All that confusion he had had months ago was back. And that sense of having lost control of everything again caught Fernando in anger. He hated everyone for ruining the simplicity he craved. 

“I never said that!” Mark said in outrage. Fernando mustered himself to look up at him again. 

“You did. You say this. I do not care what you have to say, Mark. If you believe I cannot trust you then fine.”

“Fernando, you’ve got it wrong,”

“I am sorry I had to do what I did but I thought you understood. Would you not have done the same?”

“I would have made sure I got my facts right first,” Mark stated in a harsh tone. He watched the frown creep onto Fernando’s face. This was it. 

“What does this mean?”

“It means you didn’t.” Mark said. He watched Fernando’s face, desperately hoping for some kind of realisation. It didn’t come. 

“I do not understand.”

“Fernando, you-”

“-What!” an Italian accent exclaimed, a little louder than the buzz of chat that was surrounding them. It wasn’t too loud and not many people noticed. Fernando and Mark both looked over to where the commotion had come from. Fernando saw it first. He would recognise Andrea’s voice anywhere. He saw him sitting at their table with Dasha. Dasha was frantically talking to him and he looked like he was about to kill. Fernando became concerned. He thought Andrea had found out about the baby. Maybe he had misunderstood her, thought she was making Fernando stay with her. He walked away from Mark and towards them with the intention of explaining. 

“Fernando!” Mark called, following him. Fernando didn’t stop but Mark’s longer strides caught him up easily. “Stop.” Mark said, catching his wrist. Fernando pulled out of his grip. The second time Mark reached for him their fingertips brushed together. A heat neither of them had felt since that last night in Brazil rushed through them. It made Fernando stop, his breath caught in his throat. Mark took his chance and spun him around. 

“Mate, please just listen to me. I don’t think you don’t trust me. I feel bad for not telling you this earlier but I couldn’t get hold of you. I so wanted to tell you but Dasha said you-”

“-Why am I not surprised to see you two together,” Robert smiled, pushing himself between Mark and Fernando. Fernando forced himself to smile, to try and act normal. Mark pushed his hands into his trouser pockets, trying not to glare at the Polish man. “It was always the same in the paddock. Still is. Well, was. I don’t think I’m the only one who is going to miss seeing your friendship next year,” Robert smiled. Mark looked at Fernando.  
“It was the right time to get out, mate. I’ll still go and watch some; can’t totally cut it from my life,” Mark smiled. Fernando’s face was starting to look pained. Maybe the thought of having to see Mark again under their current circumstance seemed to hard to him. Mark didn’t let it bother him; he would sort it by the end of the night. Everything would go back to normal. 

“But maybe rooting for another team?” Robert laughed with a wink. 

“Not sure Red Bull would let me back in,” Mark said, smiling at the double meaning that only he knew about. No, I think once you’ve broken in and destroyed their golden boys room they won’t have open arms for you.

“Always thought you would look better in red anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was telling the misses after Malaysia that I reckoned you would be racing next to this guy next year.” Robert clapped a hand on Fernando’s shoulder. “You gave us quite a shock when you said you were leaving the sport. I reckon we will see you in the Ferrari garage next year.”

“If there is any room,” Fernando muttered, but Robert appeared not to hear him.

“You have to be careful though,” Robert smiled. Mark frowned at him.

“Why’s that?”

“When I was on the grid, I don’t know if it’s the same now, but definitely back then everyone used to think you were secretly together. You didn’t help yourselves when you came out at the same time as Fernando announced his divorce,” Robert joked. He thought he was making a completely innocent joke. Fernando and Mark exchanged a look. Hopefully they hadn’t been that obvious over the past few months. Robert caught their look and cleared his throat awkwardly, dropping his hand from Fernando. “But I know that’s not true. Obviously Fernando is with Deana.”

“Dasha.” Both Mark and Fernando said together. Robert gave them both an odd look, as if something didn’t quite add up in his head. Maybe it was the anger he thought he could hear in both of their voices.

“Right.” There was a pause where no one knew what to say or do. They just stood for a moment until a man with a camera walked past. Robert jumped on the chance. “Monsieur! If you please?” Robert indicated to the three of them and the man nodded, lifting the camera to his face and looking through the viewfinder. He wrapped his arms around Mark and Fernando and all three of them smiled. “A photo with my two idols,” Robert laughed and the man took a photo and gave them thumbs up. 

“See you in the presentation then,” Robert smiled and walked off. Fernando wondered why he had come over in the first place. Maybe he had just come for the photo but the awkward conversation had come first. Fernando scratched the back of his neck, completely forgetting Mark was standing beside him. 

“Fernando, I don’t want you to-” Mark started, but was interrupted again. Every time! Every time he had gone to tell Fernando he was interrupted. This time his phone was ringing. He pulled it from the inside pocket of his jacket and read Annie’s name of the caller ID. He had no choice; he had to answer. “Stay here. I’ll be two seconds.” Mark said as he answered the phone and lifted it to his ear. He took a step away from Fernando. 

“Hello, now’s not the best time can I call you-?”

“What the fuck were you trying to do?” Annie’s panicked, frantic voice came down the line. Mark frowned, not understanding what she was talking about. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Fernando didn’t know why he was waiting. He didn’t want to hear what Mark had to tell him. He didn’t want to know. Without saying anything, he turned away and forced himself to walk back to his table. Mark didn’t notice; he was concentrating on Annie. Fernando sat down next to Dasha who took hold of his hand and clamped hers on top of it. She was holding so tightly that it was beginning to hurt. Andrea stood from the other side of Dasha – Fernando hadn’t even realised he was there. 

“Can I have a word?” Andrea asked. Fernando nodded in an uncommitted way and went to stand. He failed to notice the held back anger that was seeping into Andrea’s words. He was furious. Dasha forced Fernando to stay where he was. 

“No.” Dasha said. Fernando looked at her.

“Why not?” They both looked up at Andrea.

“Because you’ve had him all week doing bits for you. You can talk about your cars some other time.” Dasha smiled, speaking in a sickly sweet tone, and it seemed to annoy Andrea even more. Fernando was watching Mark on the phone. Mark had moved across the room and was supposedly hiding behind a pillar. 

“I don’t want to talk to him about cars.”

“Then it can wait.” Dasha shot at the Italian. Andrea moved around the table and sat next to Fernando. He lent forwards to mutter the words he had wanted to say to the Spaniard in his ear, but Dasha glared over at him. Andrea looked at Fernando and frowned, following his distracted gaze. His eyes fell on Mark. 

“Christian called.” Annie said down the line. Mark’s jaw locked. He felt like he had been ratted out to his mum. 

“Wasn’t that nice.” Mark stated sarcastically. 

“That’s where you were going after the airport. That’s why you couldn’t tell me. You went and broke into Red Bull!”

“Calm down, Annie. I didn’t break in.”

“Well you broke the door on Sebastian’s office easily enough. What the hell were you looking for?”

“It doesn’t matter. Look, now’s not the best time for me-”

“-Tough shit, Mark.” There was a pause.

“Annie, I’m going to tell Fernando. I’ve got to.”

“Just think about it. Think about what it will do to him.”

“And think about what Seb will do to him if I let him go on with his crazy plan! I can’t sit back and watch it!” Annie didn’t know what he was talking about but she was desperate to stop Mark telling Fernando.

“But you don’t have any evidence!”

“I have!” The line went silent for a while and Mark took this opportunity to calm his breathing. He looked over to Fernando’s table and caught Fernando’s eye. He was watching him with a frown on his face. Mark so wanted to cross the room and kiss him, tell him everything and tell him everything was going to be all right. But he couldn’t. That wasn’t fair on Fernando. 

“What evidence?” Annie eventually said. 

“Seb planned it. Seb planned the whole thing. He had charts and calculations. Now I’ve got them.” Another long pause. Mark was looking into Fernando’s eyes across the room. Fernando couldn’t seem to look away. 

“That’s what you got from Red Bull?” 

“He told me where it was. He obviously didn’t think I would have the guts to go and get it.”

“So what are you going to do with it?”

“I’m going to make him explain to Fernando.” Another pause. 

“Who?”

“Sebastian.”

“You really think he is going to help you?”

“That’s why I said ‘make’” Mark watched as Andrea caught Fernando’s attention. He took to watching the muscles in his neck as he turned his head. His fingers tingled at the thought of brushing his skin again. He tried to focus on not making a fool of himself but the proximity, the closeness to Fernando, the ability to simply cross the room and touch him… It was too much. And Mark couldn’t shake the memory of the desperate way Fernando had pleaded his name earlier that evening. He needed Fernando. He wouldn’t let anyone stand in his way. 

“I have to go now Annie. I have to go.”

“Mark, please don’t do anything else stupid. At least make a plan before you tell him. Think about the consequences. It’s going to be a big shock for him. Make sure he is out of the public eye.”

“Ok, Annie. Ok. Please don’t worry. It will be fine. It will be fine.” Mark smiled slightly and, giving one last look at Fernando, hung up the phone. Annie had made a point. He couldn’t be rash about this. This was huge news and would have momentous implications. He would have to wait. Wait until they were in the safety of a hotel room. He crossed the room and sat down at his table next to Christian. He knew what he needed to do. He leant close to his ex-team principle’s ear. 

“I need you’re help.” Mark muttered. Christian made to turn to face him but Mark stopped him. “I need you’re help, Christian. I know we haven’t always seen things the same way before and I know you have always tried to be impartial but with Marko breathing down your neck it’s not always easy. All I’m asking is for one small favour. Don’t tell Seb and don’t tell Marko. I don’t believe that you understood what was in that room and that is why I’m asking for your help. One small favour. For all I’ve done over the past six years, please, just do this for me.” Mark sat back and watched Christian. The Brit turned to face him and gave him a small nod. 

“Ok. What do you need me to do?”

\- - -

It was late when they got back to the hotel. Fernando opened the door to Dasha and his hotel room tired. Too tired to even concentrate on what he was doing. He threw the plastic card on the desk and puled his jacket off, draping it over the back of a chair. His trophy had all ready been shipped to Madrid to go into his exhibition. He fell back onto the bed and looked up at the ceiling. That had been too hard. He never wanted to see Mark again. Not now. It was too hard. He couldn’t supress the feelings the Australian provoked in him. They couldn’t remain friends because Fernando couldn’t do it. Fernando couldn’t take it. 

Dasha stood lingering in the doorway, unaware of what she should do. She took off her shoes and coat and just stood by the door, watching Fernando. He was gone. He was never going to be the man she met just over a year ago. And she had done it. Dasha Kapustina – with the help of Sebastian Vettel – had ruined Fernando Alonso. 

She wanted to cry. 

\- - -

Seb was happily chatting to some of the people who had attended the awards Gala in the hotel bar. It appeared everyone was using the same hotel, which made Seb’s job of rubbing his fourth consecutive victory in Fernando’s face a lot easier. Not that he had seen much of the Spaniard this evening. He had initially thought he had not shown until the man himself appeared on stage to receive his runner’s up award. Heikki was hovering off his shoulder and Seb excused himself from the conversation to hear what he was waiting to tell him. 

“Anything?” Seb asked. Heikki shook his head. 

“It was a bit risky earlier. Mark had got him cornered and was talking to him. He seemed to piss him off because Fernando stormed off. Mark caught up to him again so I sent Robert over to interrupt them. Mark was then on the phone and nothing else happened. Once he was done talking to whoever had rung him he sat back down with Christian.” Seb nodded. 

“OK… That’s good. Yes. That’s good. Where is Fernando now?” Seb asked. Heikki shrugged.

“No one knows. Dasha and him have disappeared. I reckon they’ve gone to their room.”

“And Mark?”

“Not there. Rocky’s on their door. He would have text if Mark had got anywhere close.”

“And have you had any luck finding that notepad?”

“No. I told you. I reckon Mark’s got it.”

“But why would he need it? It doesn’t help him.” Seb was confused and Heikki shrugged. Nothing Mark did at the moment seemed to be making any sense. Seb rubbed his hand across his face and thanked Heikki as Christian came over. Seb smiled. 

“Hey. Nice speech. Wondered if we could have a talk about next year.” Christian’s eyes fell on Heikki. “In private.”

“I’m his trainer, of all people I should-” Heikki started in an outraged tone. 

“-It’s all right, Heikki. Sure, Christian. Lead the way.” Christian nodded and lead Seb from the crowded bar. It had been planned so Christian wouldn’t have been seen as being involved. As if Mark had just been extremely lucky. Christian got to the entrance of the bar when he stopped. 

“Shit.” Christian said, placing his palm on his forehead. Seb frowned at him. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I left my phone with Adrian. It’s got my notes on it. Just stay here, I’ll be back in a moment,” Christian said as he disappeared back into the bar. Seb walked out and stood in the lobby, pushing his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t ready for the tight grip around his elbow. He wasn’t ready to be dragged towards the lifts. He turned at looked at the determined face of Mark. 

“Mark, get off me,”

“Nope. Now shut up. You get to speak when I tell you to,” Mark growled, calling a lift. As they waited, Mark readjusted the rucksack on his back. Seb frowned at it. 

“What’s in there?”

“Irrelevant right now.” Mark said, shoving Seb hard so he fell into the lift. The doors closed and Mark turned his back to him, obscuring the numbers so Seb couldn’t see what floor they were going to. Mark looked ridiculous with his smart, formal suit and his black rucksack. 

“Where the fuck are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“Tell me, Mark. I’ve got Christian waiting downstairs.”

“He’ll understand.” Mark said, forcing the smile off his face. He wouldn’t rat Christian out. That wasn’t fair when he had just helped him. 

“What you going to do? Take me to your fuck buddy and force me to explain?” Seb spat; angered by Mark’s limited communication. Quicker than he could blink, Mark caught Seb by the collar and pushed him up against the wall.

“I don’t think you really want to be trying to push me now, Seb, because I promise you no one will come and protect you and I am not above beating the shit out of you. You really fucked things up, and not just for me. You’re still messing with Dasha just because she went against what you said. And I’ve had enough. It ends here.” Mark finished talking and the lift doors opened. Keeping one hand on Seb’s collar, he dragged him out the lift and down the corridor. 

\- - -

“…And everyone was really nice. It’s a shame I haven’t met your friend Robert before,” Dasha continued. She had just been talking at Fernando to fill the silence. She was still lingering by the door with Fernando staring at the ceiling. Fernando pulled the black material around his neck free and laid it on the bed beside him. 

“That’s because he’s not in F1.” Fernando said in a tired and bored tone, undoing his top button. 

“But he was before? He replaced you when you left Renault for Ferrari, right?” Dasha asked. Fernando nodded. “Why?”

“He had a bad accident in a rally car.” Fernando stated. 

“Oh…” The silence crept between them again and Dasha moved over to the bed, perching beside Fernando. She picked up his discarded bowtie and ran the material through her fingers absent-mindedly. “I wondered if tomorrow you wanted to go sight-seeing in Paris. Considering we’re here I though it would be nice.” She said to her hands. Fernando sat himself up. 

“Sounds great.” He sighed. He let forwards to kiss her forehead but he couldn’t do it. He pushed himself off the bed and ran his hands through his hair, walking into the bathroom and closing the door. Dasha let her posture deflate. She couldn’t keep doing this to him. It wasn’t fair. But she thought Mark didn’t want him like Fernando wanted Mark. Needed Mark. She sighed. 

Three sharp knocks on the door got her up. She padded over to the door, lifting the bottom of her dress with her right hand, and pulled on the door handle. Without her heels on, Mark was a lot taller than her. He stood, looking angry, with his right hand extended past the frame of the door, holding onto something Dasha couldn’t see. She made to close the door. Mark stopped it easily with his free hand. She glared up at him. 

“Get out of here.” Dasha whispered, pushing on the door again. Mark moved her out of the way and threw Seb into the room, watching him sprawl on the floor at Dasha’s feet. He closed the door and headed into the room. Why did their hotel rooms have to have so many little rooms within them? Fernando could have been in any one of these. Mark turned on Dasha. 

“Where is he?”

“Mark, get out of here. He doesn’t want to see you.” Dasha spat from the doorway. Seb got himself up. 

“What the fuck is in your bag?” Seb asked, panic starting to become clear in his voice. Mark turned his back to both of them and headed through to a seating area. 

“Fernando?” He called, walking through the room. He wasn’t here. He crossed onto the balcony. “Fernando?” He walked round the corner but the Spaniard wasn’t there either. He crossed back into the hotel room and into the bedroom. Dasha was standing protectively in front of the bathroom door. Mark had found Fernando. “Move out of the way, Dasha.”

“I won’t let you hurt him, Mark. He deserves better than you.”

“You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” Mark spat, swinging his bag off his back. 

“Seb said-”

“-Seb’s a lying cunt.” Mark threw the bag to Dasha who caught it easily. “Take a look for yourself.” Dasha dubiously unzipped the bag and Seb lunged for it. Mark caught him easily and held him by the collar against the wall. “You see? You see what you’ve done now? You precious little plan is about to go up in smoke. And you’re explaining the details.”

“I’m not going to explain shit! Get the fuck off me!” Mark ignored him and turned to face Dasha. She had pulled out the calendar. Each little mark showing some point of her cycle. Her eyes were wide in disbelief. Mark let go of Seb and moved slowly to Dasha. 

“He planned it. He planned the whole thing. Whatever he has told you was a lie. Anything about this or me or Fernando. It’s all a lie. I’m sorry.” Mark said. He tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. Dasha looked up at him. 

“He… Planned it?” Mark nodded. 

“And when he found out we were going to tell Fernando the truth he lied to you again to get you to mistrust me…” Mark said whilst retrieving the notepad he had picked up the night before. Seb swore. Of course Heikki had been right. After reading the first page of the notepad she believed Mark was right. It was all too accurate. Dasha slowly began emptying the bag onto the floor. Page after page of calculations came out. Of all the things she had seen she was most pissed off that Seb had tried to make her mistrust Mark; that had help lead to Fernando’s misery. 

“Why?” Dasha asked him, dropping the bag to the floor with the rest of the paper. The one sheet that was still in her hand began to crumple as she tightened her fists. “What on earth made you think-?” Mark put a hand on her shoulder to stop her moving any closer to Seb. She was getting angrier as the realisation of what he had done sunk in

“-Dasha, calm down.” She turned briefly on Mark.

“Calm down? You want me to calm down after you’ve proved to me he was just using me to hurt Fernando? I won’t fucking calm down! I was fucking answers!”

“Dasha, please. Think of the child-”

“-I don’t give a fuck, Mark! He fucking used me! How the fuck does he think he has the fucking right!” Dasha lurched for Seb but Mark caught her under her ribs and held her back. She tried to fight out of Mark’s grip and Seb sprung across the bed, using it as a barricade between them. 

“Dasha-!” Mark tried, through gritted teeth as she sent her foot back into his knee for the fourth time. But she wasn’t listening. 

“-Just tell me why!” She screamed at Seb. Seb was beginning to smile. 

“Because it was so fucking easy… Just like you.” He said with cocky arrogance. Dasha stopped momentarily. As if she couldn’t quite believe he had said the words. But then she was back to failing and fighting to get out of Mark’s grip. To get to Seb. Mark was on the verge of letting her go. 

“Don’t pretend this was just a fucking game! Tell her! Tell her why you spent the last seven months of your life planning to get her pregnant!” Mark snarled over at him. That was when the door opened. Everything stopped. Dasha’s arms fell to her sides. Mark turned to face him with his eyes wide in fear. His grip on Dasha fell away. Seb pressed himself against the wall, unsure what was going to happen next. Seb was frantically looking for an escape but the only one seemed to be the door, which was blocked by everyone else. 

But everyone was looking at Fernando, who had just appeared still wearing his suit. His cuffs were undone and his hair looked a mess, as if he had run his hands trough it a million times. But his expression was locked. Mark had never seen him like that. No one had ever seen him like that. Fernando didn’t think he had ever been this angry before. He bent down and picked up a page of calculations that showed Seb working out the optimum time to sleep with Dasha. His eyes fell on Mark. 

“Didn’t mean to interrupt.” Fernando stated sarcastically in a tone he was forcing to not shake with anger. “But could someone explain what the fuck is going on.”


	28. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think confrontation is healthy, because it clears the air very quickly”   
> ~Bill Parcells~

No one said anything. Everyone remained silently watching Fernando. The Spaniard’s knuckles had turned white. Sebastian swallowed. Dasha’s face was tore between being furious at Seb and feeling horrible for what she had done for Fernando. Mark had been ready for a reaction like this, but maybe not this crucial. Mark held Fernando’s intense glare.

“Fernando, I just-” Dasha started, moving towards Fernando. Fernando didn’t take his eyes off Mark. 

“-Are you going to fucking explain or am I going to have to force it out of you?” Fernando said through gritted teeth. Tears began to roll over Dasha’s cheeks but Mark continued to hold Fernando’s gaze. 

“I wanted to tell you sooner but-”

“-Mark.” Fernando cut across Dasha, his voice giving away some kind of desperation. But the anger was still clear, still burning. Mark feared his own voice would fail him. Fernando was getting impatient with the silence. He had a right to know, to understand what Mark had said. Why Mark had said Seb had planned Dasha’s pregnancy. He waited, but Mark didn’t speak. 

“It’s not his fault, Fernando. Seb did it. It was all Seb’s scheme.” Fernando finally broke eye contact with Mark and glared at Dasha. Mark sighed in relief, collecting himself. 

“Quick to pass the blame, aren’t you?” Fernando spat in her direction. More tears spilled onto her face as she shook her head slightly. “Last time I checked it took two people to make a baby.” Fernando’s teeth were locked tight. He couldn’t believe it. Dasha dropped her head to the floor shamefully. Fernando looked back to Mark. “And you seem to know a lot about this.”

“Ask me what you want. I’ll give you an honest answer.” Mark said, taking a step towards Fernando. Seb watched quietly from the corner of the room, scared of this unknown anger he could sense from Fernando. 

“How long have you known something wasn’t right?” Fernando asked. Mark swallowed. 

“Two weeks.” Fernando blinked. It wasn’t possible. Two weeks Mark had known and Fernando was only just finding out? It didn’t make sense. Fernando felt betrayed. No one was prepared when he suddenly sprung across the room and threw himself at Mark, trying to make some contact with the Australian’s flesh. As Mark was unsuspecting, Fernando’s punch made satisfying contact with Mark’s right eye. Fernando paused as Mark crumpled to the floor, breathing heavily and holding his fists poised. Dasha gasped. 

“Fernando-!”

“You fucking shit! What the fuck? You just think that it’s a good idea to hold fucking information from me? You’re trying to fucking control me! Tell me I’m fucking wrong!” Fernando yelled, startling Seb. The German had not predicted that Fernando would turn on Mark. That was an odd twist to this moment. He slid slowly around the side of the room, trying to be as quiet as possible. 

“You’re fucking wrong!” Mark yelled back, covering the area of his face Fernando had hit with his hand. He pushed himself off the floor. “I’ve been trying to call you for two fucking weeks! It’s not my fault you blocked my fucking number!” Fernando was momentarily shocked, but he turned back on Dasha.

“Can you not keep anything from fucking Red Bull! Do you have to tell someone anything I fucking tell you?” Fernando growled. Dasha backed away from him. 

“You don’t understand, Fernando!” Dasha was crying heavily now and her words were only just audible through her sobs. “He wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you. Everyone wanted to tell you. Seb’s been playing fucking mind games for weeks and I feel like shit-!”

“-You feel like shit? How the fuck do you think I feel? You don’t know what feeling like shit is like; you haven’t had any shit. You’ve been too busy fucking him!” Fernando hollered pointing an accusing finger at Seb – who froze in his escape. More tears fell on Dasha’s face. 

“Fernando, I didn’t. You don’t know the whole story.”

“So where do you fit into all of this?” Fernando shot, spinning to look at Mark again. “All you did over the last seven months, was that just a distraction so he could fuck her without being caught?” Mark was hurt by his accusation. He really thought that had all been pretence? Everything they had gone through together and Fernando could so easily believe it was all a game? Mark could feel his own anger building. And he shouldn’t be angry at Fernando; he should be sympathetic. It was a big shock. But if he was going to accuse Mark of playing up false pretences then Mark couldn’t find any reason to feel sorry for him. His eye throbbed painfully. 

“That’s a fucking joke, right?” Mark snarled, glaring over at Fernando. Fernando’s anger seemed to falter momentarily, but then he matched Mark’s glare. 

“I don’t know anymore, Mark. I don’t know what is true and not true now. For the past two weeks I’ve thought I was going to be a father. Now I’m told it not even fucking mine? I don’t know what to fucking think anymore!” 

“So you think I could just pretend all of that stuff? You think I could just make it up in my head? You think I didn’t mean a fucking word?” Mark was getting more and more angry. Fernando seemed to hesitate a little.

“Put yourself in my fucking shoes.”

“You already tried that one, mate. I wouldn’t accuse you of making up everything we had. Don’t you dare try to make this my fault. The blame is behind you. Why you’re even involving me I don’t know.”

“Because you fucking knew and didn’t tell me!”

“You blocked my fucking number! How was I supposed to tell you if you cut off all communication?”

“So then how did you find out?”

“He fucking told me!” Mark shouted, pointing at Sebastian over Fernando’s shoulder. Fernando turned to look at him, his anger replaced by confusion. 

“You told him?” Fernando asked, completely perplexed. Sebastian nodded. “Why?”

“He asked.”

“And you just told him? You didn’t think he would try and tell me?”

“Dasha told me you blocked his number. I’d forgotten he would be here tonight.” Fernando shot a look at Dasha. 

“Really can’t not tell him anything, can you?” Fernando shot sarcastically at her before he turned his back to Seb and Dasha and looked back to Mark. “All right. Just confirm it even though I know it’s true.” Fernando sighed, closing his eyes. Mark could see him shaking with rage. “Whose child is Dasha carrying?” Mark took a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry, Fernando. I didn’t want to have to-” Mark started.

“-Just… Just tell me.” Fernando said, cutting him off. His voice was already sounding dejected. Mark sighed, still watching Fernando carefully. 

“Seb’s.” The small word punctured into Fernando’s brain and corrupted every thought he had had. And he couldn’t see any clarity. It was a mass of fog. Something he couldn’t control. He felt like someone had pulled the floor from beneath his feet and he was falling. He waited for the solid impact after the fall but it didn’t come. He opened his eyes, thinking he had control of himself. As he looked up at Mark a tear rolled onto his cheek. He was still free falling. That horrible finality of hitting the pavement of realisation was still to come. Dasha couldn’t stand it. She pushed past Mark. 

“Fernando I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I thought I was still on the pill. I didn’t realised he had planned this. I didn’t realise he had forced us apart. Fernando, please, you have to believe me.” Dasha cried, clinging onto the front of Fernando’s shirt. Fernando wasn’t looking at her; he was looking over at Mark. Mark didn’t want to have been the one to confirm it, to tell Fernando his worst fear was true. He wanted to cross the room. Brush the tears from Fernando’s face. Tell him it was OK to cry. But Fernando’s jaw had locked again. He wiped under his eyes before he pushed Dasha’s hands off him and turned on Seb. 

“So what did you do?” Fernando asked, barely moving his mouth. “Fill her with lies and then lock her in a room? Make her feel like I didn’t care about her anymore so she would throw herself at you when you gave her the chance?” There was a pause were Seb took in Fernando. Seb could see the tears fighting to emerge from Fernando’s eyes and desperately wanted to see them spill onto his cheeks. 

“Yeah, basically.”

“No. No basically about this. You fucking tell me.” Fernando said, clenching his fists tighter. Mark wondered if the blood would ever return to his fingers. Fernando’s advance made Sebastian swallow fearfully. His proximity to the Spaniard seemed to shadow a sense of inevitability. 

“I-”

“-He got her a fake pill. She’s been thinking she’s been on it for the past seven months but she hasn’t been,” Mark said, trying to help Fernando understand. Fernando glared over his shoulder at Mark, fresh tears splashing onto his face. 

“If you don’t want me to fucking blame you then don’t get involved.” Fernando choked through gritted teeth. Mark looked hurt. 

“I’m trying to help you.” Mark countered. 

“You’re not helping at all! You’re making it fucking worse!”

“Like fuck he’s going to tell you anything!” Mark growled. Fernando closed his eyes again, turning his back to Mark. 

“He’ll fucking relish in telling me. He knows he’s got me on the fucking edge.” Fernando snarled. Seb was watching him carefully. When Fernando opened his eyes and glowered at him through blood-shot eyes a sadistic pleasure shot through his veins. The broken image of Fernando was perfection in his eyes. He didn’t try very hard to hide his smile. Another tear escaped Fernando’s eye. “So you made sure she was unprotected. You made sure she would fall pregnant.”

“I thought I only had one shot. I didn’t want to miss my opportunity.” Seb stated, folding his arms. Fernando took in his words. Another wave of horror flooded over him. Only thought? Fernando looked over at Dasha who was still crying, her face buried in her hands. She looked up at him, mascara running down her face. 

“Thought?” Fernando asked Dasha. She seemed to have lost the ability to speak. 

“Oh yeah, we did it more than once.” Seb smiled from behind Fernando. Fernando’s teeth locked together. Dasha moved towards him again, cupping his face as she sobbed. 

“Fernando, please. I would… I would ne-ne-never do anything to hurt you. On. On purpose. I lo- Fernando. I’m sorry. I couldn’t. Think… He. He. He was telling. Me things and I didn’t. I didn’t. I didn’t know what to thi-”

“When?” Fernando spat, pushing out of Dasha’s hold. She fell into and uncontrollable mess and the noises she was making were grinding on Fernando’s nerves. He turned back on Seb as Dasha clung to Mark. Mark kept his eyes on Fernando as he tried to calm Dasha down. This stress could not be helping the baby. 

“Which time?” Seb teased. He watched, happily as the flicker of intense hate flashed in Fernando’s eyes. 

“Don’t. Fucking. Play. Games. Sebastian. Tell. Me. When. You. Fucked. Her.” Fernando snarled through gritted teeth. He was finding it hard to hold his anger inside. Sebastian looked as if he was in deep thought, pondering an idea. 

“Well… Erm… God, Dasha, when did we do it the first time? It might have been… Erm… So many times… I can’t remember.” Seb grinned. Fernando threw himself at Sebastian and pushed him against the wall, bringing his face next to the German’s. Mark let go of Dasha, taking a step forwards. 

“Don’t think I won’t hit you, Sebastian. If I hit Mark don’t try and find out what I would do to you.” Fernando sneered in his ear. Sebastian swallowed. 

“Abu Dhabi.” Seb breathed. Fernando frowned. 

“She wasn’t there in Abu Dhabi.” Sebastian gave Fernando a side-glance. 

“That’s what you think.” Sebastian challenged. Before Fernando got a chance to say something else, Dasha cut across him. 

“Fernando. I was there. I was trying to get you to talk to me. I was worried after India. I wanted you to come back to me. I was desperate. Just as I was in India. And I’m so sorry.” Dasha had composed herself a little but her voice was still shaky and on the verge of tears. Fernando let go of Sebastian, who slid down the wall, and frowned at her, moving towards her. 

“What do you mean you were desperate in India?” Fernando asked, not wanting to hear the answer. Mark knew how he would react. He touched Fernando’s arm supportively and looked down at his face. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Mark said sternly. Fernando didn’t need to know. Fernando turned his frown to Mark. “It’s done now. It’s over. You don’t have-”

“-But he wants to know, Mark. You said I had to explain everything.” Sebastian said, getting himself off the ground and smoothening out his shirt. Mark turned on him. 

“You fucking dare.” Mark snarled, still holding Fernando’s arm. Fernando frowned between Mark and Sebastian, trying to understand what was going on. Seb gave a look to Mark before turning on Fernando and showing callous glee in his voice and expression. 

“That’s the first time we fucked.” Seb stated, watching Fernando’s expression. Dasha sunk to the floor, holding herself and rocking gently. This was not how she had wanted this to happen. This was coming out worse for Fernando. She wanted a chance to explain, but she couldn’t see one. She needed Fernando to calm down; then he would listen. Fernando’s lips pressed into a thin line. 

“What.” Sebastian smiled at Fernando’s new anger. 

“India. After I had won another race. Won the Championship. For the forth time in a row. I took her back to my room. She was more than happy to continue the celebrations… With the World Champion. Someone a bit more precious than yourself. ” Seb teased. He was relishing in the sight of Fernando’s anger-tense body. And Mark was glaring at him. And Seb just stood there. Smiling. Folding his arms. Basking in it all. 

Because it was always going to be short lived. 

Fernando caught Seb’s collar and pushed him against the wall before he punched his face, bringing his fist down on the bridge of his nose. As Seb yelled in pain, Fernando hit him again, venting his anger, his hatred, on Sebastian’s face. Dasha was screaming at him but he didn’t stop, he couldn’t. He was cursing at Seb and his yells clashed with Dasha’s screams and Seb’s cries, corrupting the air with a horrific rip of sound. Relented his punching, he lifted Seb’s beaten face close to his, taking in the swollen skin, cut lip and the steady stream of blood pouring from his nose. Mark didn’t know what to do. He knew he had to stop Fernando. Fernando took his legs out with a sweep of his leg and watched Seb fall to the floor. As Fernando pulled back his leg to send his foot into the exposed side of Sebastian, Mark caught his and pulled him away, leaving Seb on the floor. 

“FERNANDO! CALM DOWN!” Mark roared over the noise. Fernando was panting hard in his hold, gripping Mark’s hands tightly. He wasn’t trying to get free; he was grateful Mark had stopped him. He was still fuming though. 

“Calm down? Calm fucking down? You can’t see what he’s done? You can’t see how fucked up this is?”

“Yes, Fernando, I can. It might make you feel better now but beating the shit out of him won’t help anyone.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Mark.” Fernando growled as Dasha’s sobs infiltrated his head. He needed her to shut the fuck up. Her stupid whines were like nails on a chalkboard. “Let. Me. Go.” He said with his eyes closed. Mark scrutinised his face. 

“No. Not if you’re-”

“-I can’t be here anymore, Mark. I need to leave. Let me go.” Fernando looked up into Mark’s eyes and the Australian let him go. Fernando turned on his heels and didn’t look back into the room. He threw the door open and walked out. Mark followed him. Dasha headed to follow them as well. Mark stopped her. 

“He needs to calm down, Dasha. Stay here.” Mark said placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. He didn’t want to loose Fernando and he had no idea where he was heading. In this mood he could do anything. Mark turned around to leave again but Dasha caught his arm. 

“I can’t leave it like this, Mark. He can’t hate me. This wasn’t my fault!” Dasha begged. Mark pulled out of her grip. 

“When he’s calmed down. Then you can explain. He won’t hear you whilst he’s like this.” Mark gave Dasha’s shoulder a comforting squeeze before he rushed out of the room after Fernando. Dasha stood, rooted to the spot in disbelief. Rocky rushed into the room once Fernando and Mark had disappeared, walking straight past Dasha and to Seb’s aid. He was glad Seb had asked him to keep watch on Fernando’s door. 

Mark took the stairs two at a time, moving down the floors. He nearly missed Fernando as he hurried down them. He abruptly stopped at the sight of Fernando pacing angrily outside a door. Mark moved down the corridor and stopped just outside his room, watching Fernando pace back and forth. Fernando stopped and glared at him. 

“Are we just going to stare at the door or were you planning on opening it?” Fernando demanded. Mark pulled the key card out of his pocket. 

“Keep you’re voice down.” Mark urged as he opened the door. He held it open for Fernando. Fernando paused in front of Mark before he entered the room. 

“Stop telling me what to fucking do.” Fernando spat, crossing the threshold of the room. Mark followed him in and closed the door. When he walked into the seating area of the room – where Fernando had stormed off to – he saw the Spaniard had moved straight over to the alcohol that sat in a display cabinet. He took out a bottle of Croft Pink port. Mark looked at him dubiously as Fernando fetched a glass. 

“Don’t be stupid, Fernando.” Mark said sternly, watching Fernando pour himself out a large glass. 

“You’re doing it again.” Fernando snarled over at him. Mark walked over to him.

“Just calm down. I know you’re feeling crap right now but-”

“-No you don’t, Mark. You don’t have a clue how I’m feeling. The best thing you can do right now is not try and empathise.” Fernando looked up at him through his eyelashes before turning his focus back to his glass. He picked it up, along with the bottle, and walked past Mark. Mark caught his arm. 

“Fernando, let me help you. I do underst-”

“-Have you ever had a girlfriend tell you she was carrying your child only to find out two weeks later that it wasn’t yours but was your rivals?” Fernando asked in a harsh tone. He stared at Mark with watery eyes, waiting for his reply. Mark shook his head. “Right. Then you don’t understand. And I hope you never will.” Fernando turned away from him and crossed out to the balcony. Mark was just about to follow him when someone knocked on the door. 

He contemplated ignoring it and just going to join Fernando, but he knew Fernando needed to calm down before anyone tried to speak to him. Mark sighed and crossed back through the bedroom to get to the door. He opened the door to reveal Heikki. Mark went to close the door. 

“You fucking hit him?” Heikki said in disbelief, placing his palm harshly on the door to stop Mark shutting him out. Mark shrugged. 

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You’re the one who dragged him off. He’s in a fucking mess!”

“Why did you come down here? Did you want one to match?” Mark threatened. Heikki swallowed. 

“What if he needs to go to hospital?”

“For a couple of bruises? He’s fine, Heikki. Tell him to man up.” Mark went to shut the door again, but Heikki held it open. 

“What if there is some internal damage?”

“Fernando just hit him. I stopped him before it got to internal damage. The only damage you will see is on his face.” Mark folded his arms impatiently. Heikki frowned at him. 

“Fernando?”

“Yeah. Kind of the reaction you expect from a man who has just been told the kid he thought was his belongs to his rival.” Mark said in a bored tone. Heikki glared at him. 

“He knows?”

“I told him.” Mark said, watching Heikki. Was Heikki upset because Seb’s plan had gone up in smoke? Well, sort of up in smoke. Mark reckoned Sebastian would salvage something from this. “Can you go now?”

“Not until you tell me what happened.” Heikki announced, folding his arms. Mark took his chance and held onto the door. 

“Ask Seb.”

“Seb’s not in the mood to talk.”

“How is that my problem?” Anger flashed through Heikki’s eyes. 

“Just tell me, Mark.”

“Go ask someone else.”

“I can’t ask Seb because he’s with Rocky getting fixed up. Dasha’s hysterical and Fernando’s disappeared… Don’t suppose you would known where he is?”

“No idea.” Mark lied. “I suppose you’re going to have to wait then, Heikki.” There was a pause where Heikki just looked at Mark, trying to read him. Mark had made no signs of blocking Heikki from the room so Heikki wrongly assumed he wasn’t hiding anything. 

“You should get something on that eye, Mark.” Heikki commented, noticing the swollen nature on the skin above Mark’s right eye. He was proud that Seb hadn’t gone down without a fight. Or that was what he assumed. “Seb’s not one to just take a beating.”

“This isn’t Seb’s work.” Mark corrected and Heikki frowned. “This is what happens when you get in the way of someone on the war path.” Heikki blinked, processing Mark’s words. The sudden realisation of what he meant made the Finn gasp.

“Fernando did-?”

“-Good bye, Heikki” Mark said, closing the door in his face. He had known Seb would tell Heikki Fernando hit him anyway. There was no point in lying. However, Heikki had unfortunately (because Mark didn’t want to take his advise) made a good point. Mark crossed back through to the little bar Fernando had recently vacated and scooped some ice from the bucket into a napkin, holding it together and placing it over his eye. He hissed as the pain throbbed unkindly and he closed his eyes, taking a seat. He didn’t blame Fernando. He should have expected it really. To come out of tonight without too much damage was an accomplishment. Especially considering how furious Fernando was. So much so that he was drinking. Something he didn’t do very much. Not unless he was trying to not think about something – which had become a common thing for the Spaniard to seek in the last few months. Mark knew Fernando would feel horrible about hitting him, but that didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that he had Fernando back. Mark couldn’t push the small smile off his face. 

“Get the fuck away from me, Seb.” Mark heard, muffled through his wall. He placed the female voice quickly as Dasha’s. 

“You’ve got to calm down. At least let me try and explain.” Seb sounded like he was begging.

“I don’t want your fucking explanation. I don’t give a fuck about you.”

“Dasha, calm down. You need to think about the baby.” A third voice chimed in. Mark frowned trying to place it.

“No I don’t. I need to think about explaining myself to Nano.” 

“No one knows where he went. Heikki said-” The third voice that Mark was struggling to recognise said. 

“-I know him. I know where he’s gone. Heikki didn’t check.”

“Dasha, just stop. Think about this.” Seb said. Mark assumed Seb had brought Dasha to a stop because there voices stopped crossing the room. “He hit Mark. OK? He’s not going to be in the right head space to talk to anyone.”

“I can’t leave it like this. He’s got to know I’m sorry.”

“Dasha, Seb’s right.” The third voice said in a soothing tone. “Just come back upstairs and we’ll-”

“-I’m not going anywhere with you. Just leave me alone!” Dasha yelled, her voice moving along the wall again. 

“Just leave her, Rocky.” Seb muttered. Rocky? Mark was confused as to how he had become involved in tonight’s charade. “She’ll discover soon enough that he won’t talk to her.” There was a sigh, but Mark couldn’t tell who made the sound. Mark got up off his chair and crossed the room, moving closer to the wall. 

“How are you now?” Rocky asked.

“Just a little sore. I’m fine. Thanks for being there.”

“When I saw Mark drag you in his room I wasn’t exactly going to leave. I dropped Heikki a text to let him know what was happening but he got stuck in a conversation with Christian.” Mark smiled at Rocky’s comment. Christian had happily fulfilled the favour Mark had asked of him; get Seb out of the bar and keep Heikki distracted. Mark would buy him a beer as a thanks next time he got the chance. Mark assumed that Rocky must have been on watch of Fernando’s room. “How was it?”

“Pretty good, apart from getting repeatedly punched.” Seb smiled. Mark felt his fist clench around the ice-filled napkin in his hand and small dregs of water poured onto his face. Before anyone had a chance to say anything else, someone knocked on Mark’s door. Mark put the napkin on the side and crossed the room. On the other side of the wall Seb panicked. Mark still knew a lot that Dasha didn’t. He couldn’t have Mark telling her more. Like maybe mentioning about Hanna. He ran down the hall. 

“Das-!”

“-Mark! Open the door!” Dasha began, pounding her fists into the wood. Mark walked through his bedroom – again – and opened the door slightly, preventing Dasha from being able to enter the room. Someone had cleaned the make-up that had run down her face off and she seemed to have regained control of herself. She gave Mark a look that was a cross between a glare and begging and desperate.

“You don’t have to knock it down.” Mark stated in a clipped tone. Dasha continued to look at him in that odd, combined way. 

“Let me in.” She said sharply. 

“No.” There was a pause where Dasha looked taken back. 

“Sorry?”

“I’m not letting you in. I told you. I told you he needs to calm down. You’ll get your chance to explain but not now. Not tonight.”

“Mark, you don’t understand-”

“-No, Dasha, you don’t understand. He’s not in the right frame of mine. Trying to explain to him now will just hurt him more. Please, for him, just wait.” Dasha looked at Mark’s face, her eyes hovering for a second at the swollen skin on Mark’s face. She looked back in his eyes. 

“I will explain. I’m not letting you take him from me without giving me a chance to clean the slate. You can’t do that, Mark,”

“And you’ve been spending too much time with Sebastian.” Mark spat, his sudden change of tone startling Dasha. It seemed to awaken an anger in her. She pushed into the door. 

“You don’t know anything, Mark! Let me in! I need to see him!” Mark held the door back. 

“I won’t let you, Dasha. Come back tomorrow. Maybe he will be calmer then.”

“I’m not leaving until I’ve had a chance to explain!” Dasha yelled, smacking her palms on the door. Seb had been hovering just on the other side of the doorframe so Mark couldn’t see him. He stepped into view and Mark took in his slightly broken appearance. There were a few drops of blood on his white shirt that must have come from his nose. His face was red and puffy and there was a small plaster on the edge of one of his eyebrows. He also had a split in his bottom lip. 

“Let her explain to him, Mark. At least then he will have some piece of mind.” Seb said in what could have been mistaken for a sympathetic tone. Mark glared at him. 

“You can fucking stop now, Seb. I think you’ve hurt him enough.” Mark seethed. In return Seb just smirked and folded his arms. 

“Oh, Mark. How naïve… I’ve not even started yet.” Mark blinked stupidly.

“Yes you have. And now you’ve finished.”

“We’ve got a whole season without you coming up. There are a lot of opportunities to let him know what happened, what I achieved. Just how good I am.” Mark had the urge to push out of the room and add another bruise to Sebastian’s face. But he made himself hold his ground. He had to protect Fernando and how ever much relief it would bring him to see his mark on that face it wasn’t worth leaving Fernando for. And besides, Dasha was still here. 

“You fucking dare.” Dasha spat at Seb, turning away from Mark. Seb seemed a little scared of Dasha’s sudden change of tone and look at Mark for support. Mark just glared at him. “You do anything to hurt him again, Seb, and I swear you will have me to answer to.”

“I’m so scared.” Seb stated sarcastically. Anger flashed through Dasha’s eyes. “Oh, and do what you want with the kid. I don’t give a shit. It’s done what I wanted it to.” Seb said in a blasé tone, turning away from them. Mark gritted his teeth. He had to keep reminding himself of Fernando. That was why he couldn’t go out there and beat the shit out of him. His grip on the door tightened. 

“I wouldn’t let you be involved in it’s life anyway. It deserves better.” Dasha shot at him. Seb didn’t turn as he disappeared down the corridor with Rocky. 

“If it’s as easy and stupid as it’s mum I would disown it anyway.” Seb threw into the air. Dasha’s eyes were swimming with tears. She backed herself against the wall and slid down it, wrapping her arms around her knees and rocking slightly, feeling more alone than ever. Mark left the door opened and sat down next to her, pulling her into a hug. She gripped onto his shirt as she let silent tears run down her face. Mark thought she was fine until her breath hitched. 

“Do you have someone I can call? You can’t be left alone tonight.” Mark muttered soothingly at her. Dasha nodded and got her phone out, finding a number quickly. She passed the phone to Mark and he called the number of Natalia, bringing the phone to his ear. He kept one arm around Dasha as she pushed into him. When Natalia answered, in a sleepy manner, Mark explained who he was and what had happened. The woman on the phone seemed to understand what Mark was talking about and told him she would come. Mark told her to come to his room and then take Dasha up to Fernando’s. The woman asked where Fernando had gone and Mark lied, telling her he didn’t know. He hung up the phone and handed it back to Dasha, getting up and extending an arm to her. She accepted it and let Mark pull her up, taking him into the hotel room. 

He sat Dasha down on the seat he had vacated to answer the door and gave her a glass of water. She nodded her thanks and gave a shaky sip. That was when her eyes fell on Fernando. He was sitting on the step that lead down to the balcony with his back to them and the bottle sitting to his right with the door closed. His hunched back showed his desolation and Dasha couldn’t take seeing him this way. A few more tears escaped onto her face and she made to get up. Mark held onto her shoulder. 

“Dasha. You need to let him calm-”

“-How can you bear to look at him like that?” Dasha asked looking up at Mark. “Doesn’t it kill you?”

“Yes.” Mark sighed, keeping his eyes firmly away from Fernando. It did hurt. Too much. But he found some solace in the fact that it wasn’t he who had made Fernando feel like this. And it was going to be him who made the Spaniard feel better. “But we don’t understand, Dasha. We have to let him come to us.” Dasha seemed to fold into herself. Mark tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I can’t have this child.” Dasha sighed. Mark crouched down in front of her and cupped her face, wiping the tears from her cheek just like he would with Fernando. He gave her a small smile. 

“You can.”

“I can’t, Mark. Look what I’ve already made it do.”

“Dasha, that child will be loved by all of us.” Mark said. Dasha gave him a small frown. 

“Us?”

“You, me and Fernando. We want to help you through this. You won’t do it on your own.”

“You can’t know Fernando will want to know it. You can’t know that.”

“It’s your child, Dasha. At some point I bet he dreamed about having them with you.” Dasha closed her eyes; letting two more tears splash down her face. She looked down at her fingers, fiddling with the material of her dress, as she took a deep, steadying breath.

“But it’s Sebastian’s.”

“That doesn’t matter. Dasha he doesn’t hate you-”

“-He does.” Dasha scoffed, wiping the tears from her face. Mark was trying to find some way of comforting her. 

“He’s just angry and confused and hurt right now. Give him time. He’ll want to help you.” Mark smiled and pressed a small kiss on her forehead. She pulled him close to her and clung onto him. He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her slowly. They just sat in this embrace until Natalia turned up. Dasha didn’t let go of Mark as he walked her over to the door. When he opened it, Natalia gave him a small smile and took her from him. She clung onto her friend as they walked away. Mark closed the door and sighed, leaning his head on the door and giving himself a few moments to reclaim himself before he crossed back through to the balcony. 

He slid the door open as quietly as he could but Fernando didn’t make to move. He was sitting on the step with his feet on the balcony floor and had wrapped his arms around his legs. Mark’s heart almost broke just at the sight of this broken Fernando. He wanted to pick up all of the pieces and glue him back together. Mark gingerly took a seat next to Fernando, with a gap of about twelve inches between them. He expected to be told to fuck off, but Fernando didn’t. Fernando didn’t say a word. He was looking away from Mark. Mark took a deep breath. 

“How are you doing?” Mark asked, hating the casualness that crept through into his voice. Fernando lifted the bottle that was to his right and showed Mark it’s half-empty state. “Half-way there,” Mark tried to joke. He wished he hadn’t. He sounded like such an insensitive twat. Fernando sighed and put the bottle back down. 

“Is not nice. Cannot drink anymore.” Mark held onto his every word as if it was his last. 

“I didn’t think you were one to drink anyway,” Mark commented, watching Fernando closely. Fernando uncurled himself and lent back against the door behind him, closing his eyes. 

“Am not.”

“Then why were you drinking it?”

“Is what people do when they do not want to think about things. I do not think this is very strong. I am still thinking.” Mark wanted to hold him, to touch his skin, place chaste kisses all over his face and promise everything was going to be all right now. But he couldn’t bring himself to move closer to him. Fernando appeared to be in a solitude bubble that Mark didn’t want to interfere with. Mark didn’t know what to say. He wanted Fernando to be happy again. 

“I’m not going to try and pretend I know how you’re feeling, Fernando, but I just need you to know I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here if you need me.” Mark swallowed, unprepared for the way Fernando’s desolate sadness had affected him. Fernando slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the night. 

“This is very kind.” Fernando sighed. Mark just watched him. Watched the tears slowly fill his coffee eyes. Heard his breath begin to fall out of sync. Watched as Fernando threw himself into the tangled mess that was this evening. He closed his eyes and tears dropped onto his face. Mark wanted to take them away, scold them for damaging Fernando, but he couldn’t seem to move. He didn’t know how Fernando would react to his physical touch and he worried it would only push him away. Mark sat with a pained expression on his face. “I cannot do this anymore…” Fernando breathed. 

“What can’t you do?” Mark questioned quietly; the fear of his voice breaking on the small words all too clear in his head. Fernando didn’t speak. “Fernando?” Mark’s voice broke on his name and the Spaniard opened his eyes, looking at him. He saw his own pain in Mark’s hazel eyes and that was worse. He didn’t want Mark to hurt as well. 

“I cannot keep pretending everything is fine. Is not fine. I cannot do it.” 

“You don’t have to. Fernando, please, just talk to me. Try and explain to me so I can help you. I want to help you.” Mark turned himself so he was facing Fernando properly. Fernando sat forward again, looking at his hands. 

“Imagine you have this thing,” Fernando sniffed, holding his hands out as if he was holding something. “And you may not have planned to have this thing but you’ve got it now. And you’re beginning to love this thing and let it take over your life because that is the only way you can live anymore. So you try and forget everything else. And then, just as you’re getting used to having this thing, someone takes it away from you. And now it’s no longer yours. It’s just… Gone.” Fernando’s hands fell to his lap and he closed his eyes again. 

“But you didn’t want the thing,” Mark suggested, moving himself slightly closer to Fernando. Fernando looked over at him. 

“I’d accepted it. I’d accepted that this part of my life was over. That’s why I had to block your-”

“-Don’t worry about that. I understand.”

“-But you should not have to! I feel so fucking stupid!” Fernando dropped his head into his hands and fell into more tears. Mark couldn’t see a way to fix this. He needed Fernando back; even though he was here he felt so far away. And Mark wanted to hold him, to kiss him, but he couldn’t. He had to let Fernando come back to the life he thought was over. 

“You’re not stupid, Fernando. If it had been me in your position I would have done the same. You did the right thing.” Mark cooed. Fernando looked over at him. 

“You seemed to work it out quick enough. Within…What, four hours? Four hours and you knew it was not mine.” Mark shook his head, moving a little closer to Fernando. He stopped himself when their knees touched. Mark waited for Fernando to get up and walk away, yell at him for taking advantage or something. Mark wasn’t trying to take advantage; he wanted to comfort Fernando. Fernando just looked at him, waiting for him to explain why he shook his head. 

“That wasn’t me. I called Annie after you left. She’s the one who worked out the date was too close.” Mark shuffled slightly, trying to get closer to Fernando. But he stopped; worried he was pushing Fernando too fast. “Fernando, it must have been a big shock when she told you. You weren’t thinking straight. You believed her because she had given you no reason not to in the past. I would have done the same.”

“I do not know what to do anymore.” Fernando said, staring forwards. “I feel like I have thrown everything away and I do not know how to get it back.”

“But I’m here, Fernando. I’m back. I'm not letting you go again.” Mark said desperately. Fernando appeared to not have heard him. 

“I do not know who I am anymore. I am not who I was. I would never have thrown everything away a few weeks ago. But I did. Too easily.” Fernando turned to Mark. “What does that say about me? I blocked your number!”

“That’s because it hurt to much,” Mark said, holding his hands in his lap. He so wanted to hold Fernando but it didn’t feel quite right. “I would have done the same.”

“This is a lie. You would have fought for me... You did.” Fernando pointed out, looking forwards again. “I do not deserve you.” Mark couldn’t stop himself. He took Fernando’s face in his hands and brushed their lips together. So soft. So gentle. But Mark had to tell Fernando he deserved him. No one else ever would. Mark gently placed the pressure on Fernando’s lips in a slow sensation. He rested his forehead on Fernando’s as he broke apart. 

“Don’t say that again, OK? That will never be true. Fernando, I only fought for you because I knew it wasn’t yours. If it had have been I would have left you, irrelevant to how I felt. Your happiness is the most important thing to me. You do deserve me. This is just a thing that happened. We’ll spend the rest of our lives forgetting it ever happened.” Mark lent back slightly and looked into his face. An echo of a smile lingered there. It was a start. Fernando wrapped his arms around Mark’s waist and pulled him close, resting his head on Mark’s shoulder. They just sat holding each other for a while. Soaking each other in. Mark sighed the first sign of relief he had felt in ages. He felt that finally, things were going to start heading back to normal. Mark gently kissed Fernando’s temple and the Spaniard pushed closer into his hold. He was like a child. Mark felt a parental need to protect him. He instinctively wrapped his arms around Fernando, rubbing his back.

“Am sorry,” Fernando muttered, sliding closer to Mark. He fitted himself perfectly under Mark’s arm and Mark held him tighter. 

“You don’t have to be sorry about anything. I understand. You did the things you did because you were doing the right thing.” Mark cooed, rocking Fernando slightly. There was a pause in the conversation where they both listened to each other’s breathing. 

“How is she?” Fernando asked, gripping tighter to Mark’s shirt. 

“I called one of her friends. She’ll be OK.” Mark sighed. Fernando nodded. 

“I do not hate her.” Fernando commented. Mark looked down at him, unsurprised. “She does not know the things he had planned. I do not blame her. She knows this?”

“I said but she didn’t appear to believe me.” Fernando looked down at his hands. “I told her we would help.”

“This is good.” Fernando said, though he didn’t sound like it was a good thing. 

“Really?” 

“Yes. Is good she knows she has help. She is not alone.”

“But…?” Mark encouraged. Fernando buried himself deeper in Mark’s chest. 

“Feel bad about how I left her.” 

“Leave it until tomorrow, bub. Just let everything settle.” Mark said and Fernando nodded. Mark stood up and Fernando frowned, hating the distance that was now between them. Fernando felt like he had wasted the last two weeks of his life without Mark. He was determined to spend every moment he could with him. Mark smiled at his worried frown and held out his hand. “Thought you’d be more comfortable in a bed than here on the concrete,” Fernando blushed slightly and let Mark lead him back inside and through to the bedroom. The half-empty bottle left abandon outside. 

Mark let Fernando climb onto the bed as he moved over to his bag to get him something to change into. Not that he didn’t love seeing Fernando in a suit, but it was never the most comfortable thing to sleep in. Fernando watched him with keep interest, wanting to hold him again. He wanted Mark to take his jacket off; the formality of the suit made him feel like he was a guest rather than what he was. He felt like Mark was being distant in sorts. Maybe Fernando deserved his distance. Maybe Mark had pushed Fernando away like Fernando had tired to push away Mark over the past few weeks. Maybe it had been easy for Mark. 

Mark threw the pyjama bottoms over to Fernando and watched him, wondering how he would react. Fernando caught the material and shook it out of its screwed up ball. More tears threatened to spill from his eyes. The motion that he had even still got them was enough to render Fernando speechless. The last time Fernando had seen these particular pyjamas Mark had been wearing them, staining them with his tears…

“Are they alright? I can get you something else…” Mark said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly and placing his other hand on his hip. Maybe he had pushed too much. Mark turned to find something else, blushing. Fernando shook his head and somehow found his voice. His eyes were still trained on the pyjamas. 

“No… Is perfect…” Fernando smiled with a breathy voice. He was determined not to let it crack. He looked up at Mark who was smiling over at him. 

“Good. I’m glad.” Mark headed out of the room, lingering in the doorway just to say: “Good Night, mate. Sleep well.”

“Wait!” Fernando called, confusion covering his face. Mark stuck his head back in the door. “Where are you going?”

“I was going to crash on the couch. I’m giving you my bed…” Mark said. Fernando had to force back to tears. Mark couldn’t seriously be considering leaving him in here alone. After everything that had happened? 

“I don’t want you to…” Fernando said, his voice loosing all confidence at the realisation of what he was about to say. What he was about to tell Mark: how much he needed him. How much he relied on him. His pride wouldn’t let the words slip past his lips. Mark watched him, stepping into the room. 

“Then what do you want?” Mark asked softly, encouraging Fernando with his eyes. Fernando looked away.

“Don’t go.” Fernando muttered, his voice getting quieter with every word. Mark moved over to the bed where Fernando had sat back on his heels. He caught his cheek with his hands and rubbed it soothingly, crouching so he was just below Fernando’s eye-line. He was giving him the power. Fernando didn’t like it, having to look down on Mark. It felt wrong, foreign. Fernando wanted the normality of their relationship back. He pushed Mark’s shoulder until he was looking up at him again. 

“Say what you want to say,” Mark encouraged, stroking Fernando’s cheek. Fernando blushed as he fought the urge to look down. 

“I… Can’t…” Fernando said, relenting and looking at his hands. Mark caught his face with his other hand and made Fernando look back up at him. He didn’t resist.

“You can. You can say anything to me. Whatever you want.” Mark said with a small, sympathetic smile. Fernando took a deep breath, staring into Mark’s eyes. 

“I want you to stay here with me. I don’t want you to leave me.” Fernando sighed. He had a niggling thought that he hadn’t said exactly what he had wanted to but Mark was moving away. 

“As long as you are sure that’s what you want,” Fernando nodded in response and Mark locked the door and turned out the light. Fernando found the dark comforting; it made him feel like he could express things without having to be seen. He could hear Mark moving back towards him. He took his chance. 

“I need you.” Fernando said confidently to the darkness. A moment of silence passed after Fernando spoke before Mark flicked a switch and the bedside lamp was on. Mark was looking over at Fernando with wide eyes. Fernando prayed Mark felt the same and he hadn’t just made a fool of himself. The confidence the darkness had given him evaded him as quickly as it came. 

“Sorry?” Mark asked, still frozen by the lamp switch. Fernando couldn’t see it getting any worse from here. 

“I want you to stay because I need you to. I can’t take another night without you when I know you’re so close.” Fernando tried to keep his eyes on Mark, but the crushing realisation of what he was saying was too much. Fernando blushed violently at his hands. Mark was still registering his words. Another night? Fernando was being honest, showing Mark exactly how vulnerable he was and how much he relied on the Australian. Maybe Fernando was just feeling insecure about what had happened. But the way he had seemed almost joyous to announce it to the dark: the fact he needed Mark. No longer just a want, a need. Mark found himself clambering over to Fernando, catching his face again. 

Before the Spaniard had a chance to say anything, Mark’s lips were on his again. He caught the Australian by the collar and pulled him on top of him as he lay down on the bed. Mark’s hands had threaded their way into Fernando’s hair, creating more mess than had previously been residing there. Fernando held onto Mark’s hips, anchoring himself to the Australian and never wanting to let go. Mark sucked on Fernando’s neck and a wave of anticipation flooded through him at the wanton sounds he inflicted from the Spaniard. The sound he hadn’t heard for too long. He craved to hear it again.

But not tonight. 

Fernando had started to fiddle with the flies on Mark’s trousers when Mark stopped, looking down at him. Fernando swallowed, moving his hands back to be resting on Mark’s hips. Mark pushed himself up and moved across the room, retrieving his own pyjamas. Fernando sat up, willing himself to find the voice to demand Mark return. But he couldn’t find his voice. Mark turned and looked at him pouting and couldn’t help but smile. 

“You look adorable when you do that,” Mark smiled, returning to Fernando. Fernando swung his legs back up on the bed and knelt so he was level with Mark. 

“Am not trying to look adorable.” Fernando pouted making Mark laugh slightly. 

“I don’t think you can help it, bub,” Mark said, putting his pyjamas beside Fernando on the bed and moving his hands to the open collar of Fernando’s shirt. He brushed his fingers tantalising over Fernando’s bare flesh and began slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “You have no idea how much I have wanted to do this all evening.” Mark muttered, focused on the perfect contrast of crystal white and caramel skin. Fernando’s fingers hooked into the belt loops around Mark’s waist and Mark stopped what he was doing to remove them. “Not tonight, mate,” Fernando looked crestfallen. 

“But is what I want,”

“Fernando, it’s been a long day. You’re hurt, angry, upset, tired and a whole host of other things. We will, I promise, but tonight is about just being here together. I don’t want to rush back into this whilst the wounds are still so fresh.” Mark sighed as he pushed a strand of hair out of Fernando’s face. Fernando couldn’t believe he could respect and love Mark anymore that he did. But here Mark was proving him wrong. Fernando pulled Mark close and kissed him lightly. Telling Mark his thanks in the small pressure of his lips. When Mark smiled back at him and continued slowly undressing Fernando the Spaniard frowned at him, trying to ignore that bubbling feeling in his navel. 

“I thought you said we’re weren’t-”

“-I haven’t seen you for two weeks. Kill a guy for wanting to appreciate what he missed.” Mark smirked as he undid the last button and pulled the white material from its tucked position. Fernando closed his eyes, loving the feel of Mark’s skin on his. He had missed it. Mark slowly ran his fingers from Fernando’s navel to his neck, loving the way Fernando’s breathing hitched. Mark held the back of his neck and looked into his face. “It’s unfair how hot you look in a suit. You have no idea what thoughts have been going through my head…” Mark said, sliding his fingers beneath the soft material of Fernando’s shirt and pushing it off his shoulders, watching it puddle around his back as it slid off his arms. Fernando opened his eyes slowly. 

“I would like to know,” Fernando said in a broken voice. He was trying to hide his want from Mark but the way he was touching him was setting his skin on fire. Mark smirked again. 

“Not tonight,” Mark said, slowly guiding Fernando back onto the bed. Fernando swallowed as Mark began to remove his trousers. He didn’t understand. Fernando frowned, trying to catch a logical thought through the pleasure and confusion filling his brain. 

“I thought you said-?” Fernando choked out.

“-You need to change for bed, Fernando. And seeing you don’t want me to leave…” Mark ridded him of his shoes and socks carefully before removing his trousers. Fernando’s breath was quickening. He was lying, pretty much naked and very aware of the amount of blood that had rushed between his legs, under Mark’s inspecting eyes. And Mark’s fingers were now in the waistband of his boxers. Fernando swallowed, trying to find some way of Mark’s gentle brushes of his skin to not be sensual. It wasn’t possible. Mark dragged the boxers all the way down Fernando’s legs before rising to his full height and looking at his naked form. It almost seemed more perfect than he remembered it. “Fuck.” Mark muttered, unable to stop himself. Fernando looked edible. Mark didn’t want to ever look away. Fernando blushed. 

With regret, Mark leaned across Fernando and retrieved the purple/blue pyjamas from the other side of the bed. He pulled them softly up Fernando’s legs and was careful to avoid touching his half-hard cock. However much the urge burned under his skin. Once Fernando was dressed for bed he looked up at Mark, waiting for what was going to happen next. Mark just winked at him and turned away, preparing to change himself for bed. Fernando propped himself up on his elbows. 

“Tease.” Fernando smiled, watching Mark. The Australian turned his back to remove his shirt but was hastily stopped. “Hey!” Fernando called, causing Mark to turn back around. “You are not the only one who missed things.”

“Yeah, but if I let you have your way god knows where we will end up,” Mark smiled and Fernando blushed slightly. 

“Don’t turn away?” Fernando requested as a compromise and Mark nodded. He unbuttoned his shirt and as soon as it fell open Fernando watched the muscles in Mark’s torso move. The way certain ones became more dominant as he bent in a certain way or moved his arms upwards. Mark was a lot quicker at changing than Fernando had been changed but Fernando salvaged those snapshots that would make him smile: Mark’s working abs, his delicate finger movements, his semi-ridged member, the sinking of his feet into the carpet. When Mark was changed he moved back over to Fernando, planting a small kiss on his lips. 

“Happy?” Mark smiled. Fernando nodded as Mark threw back the duvet and motioned for him to climb underneath. Fernando did and Mark followed him. The Spaniard went to curl into Mark but the Australian lent away slightly. Fernando frowned. “Roll over.” Mark directed and Fernando obliged. With his back now facing Mark, Mark took in the brilliant artwork that was now being presented to him. He smiled at it for a moment before kissing along Fernando’s shoulder and sliding his right arm under Fernando’s neck, pulling him close. He placed his other arms on Fernando’s hip and sighted as he absent-mindedly began stroking Fernando’s hair. Fernando pushed back into his hold, loving the protection it represented. 

“Please?” Fernando asked gently, all ready knowing the answer. 

“Not tonight.” Mark smiled, pressing his lips against Fernando’s back before he moved away slightly and turned off the lamplight. Mark fell back into his protective hold easily, the hand in Fernando’s hair still giving small movements. “You need a haircut, bub,” 

“I know this,” Fernando smiled, pulling the hand that was on his hip closer so it surrounded him, entwining their fingers. He allowed himself to melt back into Mark, finally feeling at peace with himself. Mark swallowed, allowing the darkness to hid his blush. 

“I love you.” Mark ventured. Maybe it was too early to go back there. Maybe Fernando was still too hurt from what had happened today. Mark started to panic a little at Fernando’s silence, but when the Spaniard sighed in relief he soaked up the feeling Fernando released. 

“I love you always, Mark.” Fernando said, kissing Mark’s hand. Mark pulled him closer and Fernando seemed to relish in the closeness, the constant connection of skin. Back how it should be. Perfect. Unbroken. Mark felt more protective of Fernando than he had ever done in the past and Fernando seemed more than happy to take his protection. It was like awakening from a nightmare. Mark felt like he would explain this crazy turn of events and Fernando would laugh about it. Maybe no laughter would come for a little while, but Mark felt fantastic that they were back on track. Both men fell asleep quickly, falling into very similar dreams about each other. 

Great minds think alike.


	29. Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It is easy for a father to have children than for children to have a real father”   
> ~Pope John XXIII~

Fernando awoke, momentarily disorientated. He blinked as the bright light from the window hit his eyes and caused them to stream water. It took him a moment to register where he was and what had happened the night before. He still could feel himself falling, not yet being hit by that crushing realisation. It would happen at some point but for now he was happy in his state of numbness, his state of unknown. So he didn’t force himself to relive last night. He pulled the arms that where wrapped around him closer.

Mark stirred slightly at the readjustment of his arms. He had been dreaming of Fernando and it felt right that he opened his eyes to see the man he loved buried deep in his embrace. He almost didn’t have the heart to move; just stay trapped in this tranquil forever. Fernando pushed back into Mark and could feel his deep breathing that didn’t accompany sleep. He rolled over to look at Mark’s face. 

Fernando couldn’t help the smile that smashed onto his face. It was too amazing to be waking up with Mark. Mark chuckled softly at him before Fernando brought their lips together. A gentle pressure that made Mark mould himself to the Spaniard and wrap his arms tighter. Fernando pulled out of the kiss and touched his face with his fingertips. Mark smiled at him, resting their foreheads together. 

“Good morning,” Mark muttered, nuzzling at Fernando’s face. 

“Perfect, actually,” Fernando sighed happily, taking hold of Mark’s shoulders. Mark looked deep into his eyes, but Fernando looked away. Somehow, the intensity of Mark’s stare was too much. Fernando felt like Mark was trying to see inside him and he felt reserved giving Mark that information. Mark pushed his hand into Fernando’s hair. 

“Fernando. About last night-”

“-I do not want to talk about this.” Fernando said, placing his hand on top of Mark’s that was in his hair.

“But-”

“-No, Mark. We forget now. I do not want to think about these things.” Fernando stated pointedly, pulling away from Mark slightly. Mark frowned, but he nodded. Fernando would want to talk about this but Mark trusted Fernando would come to him at that time. He rubbed Fernando’s back and the Spaniard buried himself into his hold. 

“Alright, mate. Whenever you want to talk I’m here.” Mark cooed. For a moment they just laid in each other’s embrace, listening to the other’s breathing and taking the solace the gentle sound proposed. Mark looked down at Fernando, trying somehow to read him. It could be days, weeks, months or years until Fernando was ready to talk about what happened. He would be supportive of Dasha, yes; that was the way Fernando worked. But to actually accept it, to be able to comprehend what had happened… Mark was aware he would encounter a night like last night again in the future. After about five minutes of just holding each other, Mark spoke again. “So what do you want to do?” Fernando looked up at him with a frown. 

“What do you mean?” Fernando asked. 

“Today. Where do you want to go? Home to Spain? Stay here? Where were you planning on going next?” Mark asked and Fernando placed his head on Mark’s chest. 

“Am heading to Maranello. Have some simulator work to do and Christmas things…” Fernando sighed; he wanted nothing more than to stay with Mark. 

“OK, So when’s your flight?” Mark asked. Fernando lent up slightly to look over at Mark’s bedside clock. 

“About two hours.”

“So we have an hour to get to the airport?” Fernando gripped tighter to Mark. 

“Can change flights. Dasha wanted to go sight-seeing today and I would have changed flight yesterday for that. Is no problem.”

“Do you want to go sight-seeing?” Mark asked, registering the small pain in his side as Fernando’s fingers dug into his skin. 

“Not particularly.” Fernando muttered. Mark sat himself up. 

“Then we have an hour.”

“I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.” Fernando said into Mark chest. Mark looked down at him with a smile on his face. Fernando really thought he was going to leave him in this state? His unnecessary worried made Mark chuckle. 

“That’s why we have got an hour to get to the airport.” Mark smiled. Fernando looked up at him confused.

“Do not understand.” Fernando blinked. 

“I’m coming with you. Wherever you go… If you want me to.” Mark said, looking deep into Fernando’s eyes. Fernando broke their eye contact by pushing himself up Mark’s body and capturing his lips again. He smiled as Mark linked his fingers around his own. 

“Of course I want this.” Fernando smiled and Mark echoed it.

“Better get a move on then,” Mark smiled, placing a kiss on Fernando’s forehead and climbing out of bed. His hand fell from Fernando’s as he crossed the room to his bag, leaving Fernando sat on the bed. 

“We have time to relax,” Fernando said sweetly. Mark could almost feel the shiver of arousal at the innocent beg in his voice. He forced his thoughts elsewhere. 

“Not if you want to get that plane,” Mark commented, bending down into his bag. Fernando wanted to stay and hold Mark for longer, but the vision of the hotel room was beginning to force him to remember the night before. He didn’t want to do that. He smiled at Mark, centring his thoughts on the curve of Mark’s back and the way his muscles worked. These things that were painted across his bare skin. 

“My stuff is upstairs.” Fernando swallowed, suddenly remembering. He didn’t want to have to see Dasha; she would definitely make him remember last night. Fernando shook his head slightly as Mark turned around to face him, holding something in his hands. 

“I’ll get it on the way out,” Mark smile. Fernando frowned at him. What did he have to be smiling at?

“What are you smiling at?” Fernando asked, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Mark took a few steps towards him. 

“I’m waiting for you to work it out.” Mark smiled. Fernando looked around himself before returning his confused frown to Mark. 

“Work out what?”

“Get ready then,” Mark smiled and it dawned on Fernando. 

“I have no clothes. Have to wear what I wore last night?” Fernando asked, not wanting to. That would be embarrassing and he was not in the mood for the walk of shame. But Mark shook his head. 

“Nope.” Fernando blinked. 

“Then what?” Mark threw his handful of clothes at Fernando and folded his arms. Fernando looked down at them. 

“You did say you enjoyed wearing my clothes,” Mark commented. Fernando blushed at the memory from Abu Dhabi when he had put on Mark’s clothes, waiting for him to get to the room. He had said that he enjoyed wearing them in jest, now he was paying the price for his joke. 

“Yes, but-” Mark crossed the room so he was standing right in front of Fernando.

“-And when you only wear these…” Mark lifted his pair of boxers he had thrown at Fernando and smiled as the Spaniard’s cheeks got redder. “Slightly irresistible.” Mark lent forwards, catching Fernando’s face and meeting it with his own. He could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks and that made him smile into their kiss. Mark ran his hand gently down Fernando’s side and pushed one finger just under the elastic waistband. 

“OK.” Fernando said abruptly, breaking away from Mark and crossing the room. He shut the bathroom door as Mark turned around, blinking stupidly. What the hell was that? Mark stood and crossed the room, giving the bathroom door three tentative knocks. 

“Fernando? You alright, mate?” Mark asked in a slightly worried tone. There was a small silence before Fernando replied. 

“Am fine.” His voice was muffled by the bathroom door. Mark tried the handle. It was locked. 

“I don’t think you are.” Mark countered. He heard Fernando exasperate from inside the little room. 

“Thank you for your concern but I am fine. Really.” 

“Then why can’t I get in?”

“Am getting dressed.”

“Fernando, you know I’ve seen much more before, so why can’t you-” Mark was getting angry. But the penny dropped. And he instantly felt bad. Before. That had been the buzzword. They were not the same as they were before. Before the incident. Before the two week separation. Before they stopped talking. Mark crossed the room, placing his bag on his bed as he frowned and folded away his clothes. 

Mark couldn’t tell whether it was personal or in general, but he knew Fernando had lost trust. Fernando wanted to be close to him because he had missed him; it had hurt a lot when he had had to leave Mark. And he was determined to not do it ever again. But this dislodgment of trust between them made him reserved from Mark. Mark didn’t know whether Fernando didn’t trust the idea of a sexual encounter in case it was used against him, as Dasha had, or whether it was a trust in being that open with someone again. Because last time Fernando had been truly open with Mark it had lead to him hurting himself and the Australian badly. 

He heard the bathroom door open and turned around, unable to push the small smirk from breaking onto his face. Fernando was pouting again, but this time with good reason. Mark’s jeans were too long on Fernando and the Spaniard’s feet had disappeared under the expense of denim. Mark’s shirt didn’t look too bad, maybe slightly big as Fernando’s shirts were slightly small on him. But the long limbs of the Australian were making for a hysterical sight as Fernando crossed his arms, challenging Mark not to laugh. 

“Is not practical.” Fernando pouted and Mark couldn’t help but let a laugh pass his lips. Fernando huffed as Mark crossed the rom. 

“They’re not that bad,” Mark smiled and Fernando looked at him like he was delusional.

“Not that bad? Mark I cannot see my feet!” Fernando whined, lifting one of his denim-clad feet in the air to clearly present the excess material. Mark’s shoulders shook as he tried to hold in a laugh. Fernando put his foot on the floor and glared at him. “I need my own things.” Mark placed both of his hands on Fernando’s arms and looked down at him seriously. 

“Fernando, if you go up there now she will want to talk. Let me go later. We can fix this problem.” Mark said, placing a gentle kiss on Fernando’s forehead. Mark wanted to make sure he was right about his assumption that Fernando was having an issue trusting him for some reason before he confronted him about it. Fernando exasperated. 

“How?” Fernando asked breathily and Mark fell to his knees. 

“Simple.” Mark said, sending hot air across Fernando’s leg. Fernando tensed. Mark lent down further and rolled up the ends of the trouser legs so they were off the floor. Fernando watched him like a curious child as he feet suddenly reappeared into sight. Once Mark had finished, he straightened himself up on his knees to a height where his face was level with Fernando’s hipbones. He placed one hand gingerly on Fernando’s outer thigh and felt him, again, tense. “See? Much better.” Mark breathed as he raise Fernando’s shirt slightly and placed a chaste kiss on the protruding bone. As Mark’s lips delicately touched Fernando’s skin the Spaniard moved away quickly, confirming Mark’s fear. Mark sat back on his heels and watched Fernando flush as he moved around the room looking for something to do. Mark racked his brains for the right words but nothing came. 

“Yes… Thank you… We need to leave… I get my stuff… Now, maybe… I-” Mark stood up as Fernando delivered his broken sentence. He caught Fernando’s arm as he paced past him and pulled him into a hug. Fernando gripped tightly to his shirt and Mark stroked his hair. 

“Do you want to tell me something?” Mark asked cautiously. Fernando frowned at him.

“Is there something I should?” Fernando asked, leaning back from Mark. The casualness that was back in the Spaniard’s tone made Mark shake his head. He assumed that Fernando didn’t want to talk about this because he knew where it would lead. Fernando knew he would have to bring up the events from last night. So Mark went along with it. For now. He couldn’t live with Fernando not trusting him. 

\- - -

Fernando waited outside when Mark went into Dasha’s room to get his stuff. Natalia was still there and let Mark in with a smile. They were lucky; Dasha was in the shower. Natalia didn’t tell Dasha he was there. She simply helped Mark to pack Fernando’s stuff and take his case with limited conversation. She smiled at them both as they moved away from the room. Mark mused that maybe Dasha had told her friend about them. It wouldn’t have surprised him. Nevertheless, he didn’t take hold of Fernando’s hand until they were in the taxi, safely a good five miles from the hotel. 

\- - -

Mark and Fernando made it to Maranello without too much fuss. The odd fan would see them and come over sheepishly to ask for a photo or and autograph. Neither man was bothered by this and obliged with a smile. When they landed in Italy Fernando held most of the attention. Mark just stood on the sidelines smiling or taking a photo for someone. He didn’t mind; Maranello was sort of Fernando’s turf. He wasn’t surprised. 

Fernando left Mark sitting in the lobby whilst he went to check in and explain how his plan had slightly changed to lady at the front desk. Mark watched as the English he had just been speaking dissolved into Italian. He truly admired Fernando for being able to speak four different languages fluently and be able to change with the blink of an eye. It really was truly amazing. As the woman smiled at Fernando and began typing on her computer, Mark felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He extracted the phone and looked at the caller ID. He swallowed. He should have really expected this. With a sigh he answered the phone. 

“Dasha, I-”

“-‘Hold on until the morning, Dasha. He’ll be calmer in the morning, Dasha. You can explain in the morning, Dasha.’ How much bullshit was that, Mark?” Dasha’s tone was wavering on almost tears to stupidly angry. Mark closed his eyes. 

“Dasha, you don’t understand. If you let me ex-”

“-I understand perfectly, Mark. I knew you would do this! You’ve just taken him away from me and now I’ll never get to explain!”

“Just shut up and listen to me for a moment.” Mark growled; loosing his patience at being constantly interrupted. He waited for her to argue back but she just huffed. “Fernando’s not taking it well. He won’t even talk to me about it. I can’t force him to talk; that’s not fair. We have to wait for him to come to us. I promise, Dasha, as soon as he talks to me about it I will tell you and you can meet up with him and explain. For now you just need to be patient.” 

“I can’t leave it like this! I can’t leave it knowing he hates me…”

“Dasha he doesn’t hate you. He wants to help you. You’ve just got to be patient.” Mark said with a soft smile. He heard Dasha sniff on the other end of the line. “Just try and have fun today, alright? I know this is hard, Dasha, but we will work through this. All three of us.”

“Easy for you to say. You’ve got him there.” Dasha mumbled. 

“Not exactly.” Mark sighed, leaning back in his chair. 

“What do you mean? He’s there, isn’t he?”

“Yeah… But he’s also not. He doesn’t trust me like he used to. He’s reserved. He won’t talk and I know if he did it would make him feel better… I don’t know what to do…”

“I know what you mean; he was like it with me over the past two weeks. I don’t know, it’s as if he thinks if he doesn’t talk about something it won’t be true. Seeing you in the lobby destroyed him because he was forced to realise that it all had happened. Maybe he’s doing the same here.”

“Maybe. How did you get him to talk?” Mark asked, finding himself desperately waiting for her voice. There was a small pause. 

“I didn’t.” Dasha sighed. “He was unapproachable. I couldn’t try and bring him back to the real world because it seemed to hold too much pain for him. That’s why he pushed himself out… I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.” Mark said gently. “Have fun sight-seeing with your friend. Don’t worry. You will have your chance to explain.” Without letting her have a chance to reply he hung up. He didn’t want to believe what she had said about Fernando but it all seemed too true. He was hiding from the problem and pretending it didn’t exist. Mark looked up to see Fernando walking towards him and forced a smile on his face. This would have to wait; it was about making Fernando understand he was still here. “All sorted?” Mark asked, pushing himself to his feet. Fernando smiled.

“Yes. They have put an extra bed in my room.” Fernando said with a smile that told Mark that second bed would not be put into use. They ascended the stairs to the seventh floor, linking hands when they were clear of the lobby. 

\- - - - -

“And you’re sure you will be all right?” Mark asked, throwing the last few things in his bag. Fernando was leaning against the wall watching him. His flight for England left in about two hours. Porsche had a test day tomorrow and had called Mark to ask if he was available. Fernando had told him to go because it was an opportunity too good to give up, so he had agreed. Fernando had Ferrari Christmas things over the next few days so Mark wouldn’t have been able to go with him anyway. That didn’t, however, make him feel any better about leaving the Spaniard. Over the three days they had spent together, Mark had noticed a steady return of the Fernando he missed. There were a few occasions where Fernando opened his mouth to say something before abruptly closing it. Mark had a feeling he wanted to talk about the incident, but doing such a thing would make it real. Fernando smiled slightly from his position against the wall as Mark turned around.

“Will be fine.” Fernando said, but Mark didn’t believe him. 

“I don’t have to go.” Mark said, folding his arms. It was more important to him that Fernando was all right rather than going back to England for a test day. Fernando pushed himself off the wall. 

“Yes you do. You will not give this up for me; is important.”

“You’re more important, Fernando,” Mark started, holding both of the Spaniard’s arms and restricting them to his sides so he couldn’t fold them. “I want to make sure you are all right and that you don’t want to tal-”

“-Am fine, Mark.” Fernando exasperated for what felt like the thousandth time. He pushed Mark’s arms off him. “Am nearly thirty-three. Can look after myself.”

“But, Fernando, you’ve-”

“-I want you to go, Mark. If you do not I will feel worse because I will feel I stopped you.” Mark blinked at Fernando’s comment. 

“I’ll be back in four days.” Mark said in a tone that let Fernando know there was no room for arguing. But Fernando was happy with that information. He was happy Mark was coming back. 

“You have told me this before,” Fernando smiled, letting Mark pull him close. Mark rested his forehead on Fernando’s as the Spaniard held his hips. Mark held Fernando’s face in one hand whilst the other supported his neck. 

“I’m making sure you know.” Mark breathed and Fernando shuddered slightly in a pleasant manner as his warm breath surrounded his face. Fernando replied by capturing Mark’s lips gently in his own, trying to be reassuring. He still felt far away from Mark even thought he was right here. And he couldn’t place the reason why. He wanted to pull Mark closer, let there be no physical space between them, but his gentle touches just reminded him of their last time and how badly he had hurt Mark. He didn’t want to let him in again because he didn’t want to hurt him. But he ached, constantly, because of the distance between them, even when they were so close. The distance he was creating. Fernando sight as Mark broke away, moving back over to his bag. Mark picked up his things, double-checked he had his ticket and his passport to hand, and then crossed the room to the door. Fernando followed him. 

“And you’ll call me if you need me? Whatever the hour, whatever the reason. Even if you just want to talk about soup?” Mark asked seriously, pausing with his free hand on the door as the other carried his bag. Fernando smirked. 

“Soup?”

“You know what I mean, Fernando.” Mark sighed. He expected Fernando to roll his eyes at his constant requests but what he didn’t know was that Fernando thrived in having someone looking after him, caring for him. It was a lot more than he had been shown by anyone else recently: Dasha, Sebastian-

-No. He wasn’t thinking about that. 

“No one else I would rather call to discuss soup,” Fernando smiled, placing another kiss on Mark’s lips. 

“You promise?” Mark asked, still not satisfied with Fernando’s response. Fernando was a little hurt by his tone, but he knew Mark only wanted the best for him. Fernando nodded. 

“I promise, Mark.” Fernando said sincerely and Mark smiled satisfied. He dropped his bag and pulled Fernando close again, clinging onto the back of his shirt. He registered that Fernando was doing the same to him; holding on as if his life depended on it. More and more reasons to not leave were occurring in Mark’s mind. But Fernando promised and Mark trusted him for that. He placed a small kiss on Fernando’s forehead before letting go and retrieving his bag. 

“I love you, Fernando,” Mark smiled. Fernando felt his heart swell at the simple words. 

“I love you forever, Mark,” Fernando said with a small blush. Mark kissed him one last time before opening the door. 

“I’ll call you as soon as I land,” Mark said, moving from the room. Fernando nodded; feeling his throat begin to close so no more words would pass. He let Mark walk out without another words and when the Australian closed the door with a gentle click, Fernando sunk to the ground and hugged his knees. He wanted Mark back now but he knew he had to let Mark do his Porsche thing. He was preparing himself for next year when Mark would leave him to do his job. But Fernando couldn’t stand the thoughts the silence let seep into his head. Too many things he was trying not to think about, so too many things aired in his head. He needed a distraction. 

Fernando pushed himself off the floor and crossed the room, picking up his keys, for his car and his room, and wallet and slipping on his shoes. Sliding his phone in his pocket, Fernando left the room and headed for the Ferrari factory. There had to be something he could do today to give him a distraction….

\- - - - -

It had all been fine. Everything was going well. But one little thing had set Fernando off balance and he couldn’t re-find his footing. He felt like he was on a capsizing boat with no way out but the icy water that was trickling around his feet. And as he felt himself plunge under the surface of the water it hit him. The numb feeling had gone and been replaced by an urge to scream, to yell, to cry. At the worst time he smacked into the pavement off realisation – his peaceful free-fall coming to a harsh end. 

At the worst time because he was currently sitting in a room full of kids dressed as Father Christmas. 

Just that morning he had been smiling and laughing with the others. Amused by how funny they all looked dressed in red suits with long white beards. He had sent Mark a couple of picture to share in his festive cheer and to prove he was still alright. Mark had been gone two days and Fernando had answered each of his call to hearing a sigh of relief. The first photo was of him just wearing the suit (no wig or excess fake facial hair) and winking and sticking his tongue out. He had captioned a text saying: “missing you” and the subsequent reply was a picture of Mark pulling a very similar face in his white race suit. The photo of Mark had made him pang with sadness. He had wanted to go with him; he wanted to support him in the next step of his career. But his own job had held him here in Maranello. Fernando had sighed slightly but picked his face off the ground as to not show any signs of melancholy to anyone else. The second photo Fernando had sent was of him in full costume. Mark had sent a text back implying that, as much as Mark like it when he had the soft shadow of stubble on his chin, a full beard did not work. That had made Fernando laugh as they all climbed into the mini van that he was driving, heading to the congregation of the Ferrari employee’s children. 

Fernando hadn’t thought of the ramifications of being around children. He had done the telethon with the little boy with no issues the day before. That event had filled him with a happiness he couldn’t describe. The way the little boy lit up as their eyes met. Fernando didn’t really want to stand up and talk about the things he had been told to. He wanted to crouch down next to the little boy and help him play with the radio-controlled car. But even though that appeared easy, Fernando was unaware that that was the first break in his hard armour. And the more children he was surrounded by, the more that inevitable sudden realisation crashed onto his shoulder. He had just sat on the floor next to De Montezemolo when the child held onto his shoulder and curled into the side of his body. He had – instinctively – wrapped an arm around the child to bring them closer, smiling. But that smiled suddenly disappeared. It was a hit, as quick as that, and Fernando found himself scrambling in the dark trying to find the reason for why he was sitting here. All of those thoughts he had pushed away were pooling in and he could do nothing but sit with a vacant look on his face. The child was taken from his side and place in Luca’s lap. Fernando barely noticed. 

“OK everybody! Smile and wave!” The photographer yelled and Fernando looked in his direction. Smile and wave. He tried to lift his face into a smile but his muscles were being resistant. What was the point of smiling? He didn’t want to. But he had to. He had to pretend everything was all right. He forced himself to look happy, forced himself to wave. A lot of people would see this image, including probably Mark, and he had to look happy, not strained. He didn’t think the team would take well to having another round of “Fernando is going to leave” over the winter break. He smiled. He waved. He did what he was supposed to. Once the photo was taken everyone applauded and he waited for an appropriate time to get up and move away. Luca caught his arm. 

“Fernando, you have a few hours before you will be picked up for the Ferrari dinner tonight. You will find your suit awaiting you in your hotel room.” Luca smiled. He had nothing to worry about. As far as he could see, everything was wonderful, everyone was happy. He didn’t know his star driver was falling apart at the seams. 

“Great.” Fernando forced in a happy tone. Luca frowned a little before leaning closer to Fernando. 

“We are all pulling the maximum for next year. We have to forget this one-”

“-I know. Am grateful.”

“Do not worry about your position in this team; you have shown your loyalty to Ferrari and we understand that. We are proud of you.” Luca smiled and clapped him on the shoulder, believing he had clear something off his shoulders. He hadn’t. Fernando knew Kimi would put pressure on him but he was ready for that. He accepted the challenge and was ready to prove himself. Luca moved away back into the crowd and Fernando broke away, heading off to change and get ready for the rest of the evening. 

\- - -

The presentation/meal wasn’t too bad in itself. But when you have a thought niggling in the back of your head, constantly threatening to swallow you whole, it makes it a little difficult to act ecstatic all of the time. How Felipe and Luca and even Stefano did it bemused Fernando. Maybe it was due to the fact they hadn’t been recently told their girlfriend was pregnant with their rival’s child. 

Ex-girlfriend. 

That didn’t make any of this any easier as Fernando let himself into his room. Discarding the key card easily he fell on the bed, loosening his tie and toeing off his shoes. Because now it was all suddenly too much and Fernando couldn’t cope with the knowledge. The knowledge about the father of the child, the knowledge of how easily he had been played, the knowledge that Sebastian still had something over his head. And Fernando felt sick. 

He sat up abruptly; slightly surprised Mark wasn’t here. But Fernando slowly realised that Mark had no idea what was going on with him. When he had returned to the hotel earlier to get ready for the Ferrari dinner he didn’t have the heart to call Mark and ruin his day. Because he knew Mark would come and Fernando wouldn’t be able to see him, but also because he couldn’t bring himself to cause Mark more pain. Fernando pulled his phone out of his inside pocket and unlocked it. His fingers froze over the phone app and he couldn’t do it. He locked the phone and placed it next to him, rolling on his side to face it. He curled up, hugging his knees. 

The tears were imminent. Everything just rolled over him at the same time in such a mess he felt light-headed. He stomach lurched and he sat himself up, hands covering his mouth as he gaged. He ran his hands over his face and slid off the bed, closing his eyes, resting his back against the side and breathing deeply. He tried to formulate one thought at a time. Say it three times, accept it and move to the next one. Dasha was pregnant. Dasha was pregnant. Dasha was pregnant. He breathed deeply. That one was easy. That one was easy to accept because he accepted it weeks ago. Mark was back with him. Mark was back with him. Mark wasn’t going to leave him. No, wait, that wasn’t the same. Mark was back with him. Fernando sighed and opened his eyes. He was avoiding the thoughts he had to accept. Because he still didn’t want them to be true. He hugged his knees tighter and buried his face between them. He needed Mark. He needed Mark to help him but he didn’t want to pull Mark into his downward spiral. 

The slight buzz behind him let him know he was being called. And Fernando jumped up, diving for the small device. Because only one person would be calling him at this time. Only one person would know he needed him at this exact moment. Fernando didn’t even read the caller ID as he answered the phone and held it to his ear.

“Mark?” Fernando said, holding his voice together. Mark sensed it straight away. 

“What’s wrong?” At the confirming Australian accent Fernando crashed down on the bed, letting his sobs roll through him. He knew he wasn’t saying anything intelligible. It wasn’t really his words he wanted Mark to hear. He wanted Mark to understand he needed him here without saying the words. “Fernando, please, try and calm down I can’t understand you,” Mark’s pained tone tore through him and he couldn’t stand what he was doing to him. Fernando dropped the phone on the bed and rolled away from it, burying his face in his pillow. Because he didn’t want to hear Mark’s pain. 

Over in England, Mark was panicking. He knew Fernando had moved away from his phone because his voice had become quieter and muffled. What the fuck was going on? Mark gritted his teeth at the possibilities that filled his head. No, Sebastian wouldn’t be allowed to set one foot on Ferrari territory. But what about that hotel? Could Sebastian get in there? Would Sebastian know what hotel Fernando was in? Mark was freaking out and Fernando’s disregard of his phone wasn’t helping matters. 

“Fuck!” Mark said as he hung up the phone. He threw it on his bed and moved around the room picking up the few bits he had taken out of his bag. There was only one place he needed to be today. Luckily Porsche didn’t need him for the second day of testing. He was going to surprise Fernando by turning up tomorrow morning. That obviously was irrelevant now because two hours away Fernando was inconsolable and Mark needed to be there. This was why he wasn’t going to come for this test. There would be plenty of time next year to test, why did he have to leave Fernando! 

Angry at himself, he stormed from the house, calling the plane company he had used a few times before. He hated getting a private plane but it was too important he get to Fernando as soon as possible. It rang through twice before someone picked up. 

“Good morning?” The tired, confused man on the other end of the line said. Mark tried to speak in a clam tone but his words were still clipped. 

“I need a plane to Italy, Maranello.” Mark stated. He heard the man sit up in his chair as it squeaked and the shuffling of paper. 

“Yeah, sure.” He yawned. “What time do you want it?”

“About ten minutes?” Mark asked as he threw his bag in the back of his car. There was a small silence. 

“Ten minutes?”

“Yeah.”

“You think we’ve got pilots on call at this time of night, pal?” The guy obviously thought he was drunk or delirious. 

“For a nice sum of money, yeah.” Mark said, sliding into the driver seat of his car. There was another small pause. 

“How much?”

“How about you provide the plane and tell me how much the pilot wants to get out of bed and help me.” Mark said, turning on his car. 

“Name, Sir?”

“Mark Webber.” Mark said as he tapped his fingers impatiently on his steering wheel. 

“Shit.” Mark heard muttered over the other end of the line. He smiled slightly at the sudden realisation that the man knew he was working with a regular customer who, he assumed, had a taking to flying to random places in the world in the middle of the night. And a customer who knew they always had a pilot and plane ready at any hour. 

“Tell Greg I’ll see him in ten minutes and if he could make it as quick as he can I’d appreciate it. Small emergency.” Mark said, checking his back mirror to check no one was coming. The guy’s voice became sheepish. 

“Of course, Mr Webber. Your plane will be ready.”

“Thank you.” Mark said and, sighing, hung up the phone and backed out of his drive. 

\- - -

The journey over to Maranello had been torturous. Mark had tried and failed to get hold of Fernando too many times and when he finally set foot in the hotel lobby he practically ran up to their room. He took a deep breath standing outside their room and tried to prepare himself for what he might see. The room was possibly trashed or maybe Fernando was pacing. Maybe Fernando was drinking again. Mark swallowed and hoped he wasn’t. He easily slotted his card into the door and let himself in, sliding the “do not disturb” sign on the outside door handle and pushing the lock into place. He dropped his bag instantly upon entering the room as his eyes fell on Fernando. 

The Spaniard was lying on his side on his bed with glazed eyes. He was facing Mark, but showed no recognition of registering he was there. Mark could see the tear tracks that had dried slightly on his cheeks as he crossed closer to him, crouching so their faces were inches apart. He placed one hand on Fernando’s cheek and brushed away the tearstain as Fernando’s eyes took him in. There was a moment of quiet as the both just looked at each other. Mark rubbed his thumb over Fernando’s cheekbone and played with his hair. 

“Am I dreaming?” Fernando asked in such an innocent tone it broke Mark’s heart. Mark pressed his forehead to Fernando’s. 

“No, bub. I’m here. I’m right here.” Mark cooed, holding Fernando’s face closer. Fernando sighed.

“But you would say this even if you were a dream…” Fernando mused. 

“Then tell me how I can prove to you I’m not.”

“You don’t have to. I believe you are here.” Fernando said as he took a hold of Mark’s arm. He sighed contently. 

“Fernando, you scared the shit out of me.” Mark said, closing his eyes. Fernando watched his face closely. 

“I did not mean to do this.” Mark exasperated a small laugh. 

“I know you didn’t, mate, but all I got was you hysterical on the phone.” Mark manoeuvred Fernando so that the Australian was sitting on the edge of the bed with Fernando curled around him. He wrapped his arms around Mark’s waist and rested his head on his navel. Mark absent-mindedly began teasing his hair. “So what’s up?”

“Did you finish you’re Porsche test?” Fernando asked, eyes opening in a sudden panic. He suddenly realised how selfish he had been. Mark relaxed him by gently massaging the back of his neck. 

“Yes, I did. It went very well.” Mark said, watching Fernando’s shoulders and they sunk back downwards. His hand returned to his hair. “Fernando, what’s wrong?” Fernando pulled himself closer to Mark. 

“I suddenly realised what happened. It suddenly hit me.” Fernando buried his face in Mark’s chest. “I had prepared myself to be a father, Mark, and they took it away from me.” Mark held Fernando and gently rocked him. 

“I know, Fer. I know. But it’s all right-” Fernando sat himself up, running a hand under his eyes. 

“-No, Mark. Is not all right. I want to be a father now and I know I cannot. I cannot be a father ever and that is that. Was OK when I did not think of these things but now I was made to think about them I know what I want and I cannot have it.” Fernando’s voice was shaky and a few tears spilled onto his cheeks. Mark swallowed nervously. 

“Is this my fault?” Mark asked. Fernando saw the pain in the Australian’s eyes and hated himself again. Why couldn’t he word this properly?

“No, Mark,” Fernando breathed, moving closer to Mark. Mark lent into his touch as he cupped his face. “Is not you. Is me. Is them. They did this. I want you and I don’t want to loose you. I just feel like am missing a part of me now. And I feel like they pointed it and now I know about the missing part.” At the clear sight of pain in Mark’s eyes Fernando became reserved. Mark sat forward, circling his legs around Fernando who was sitting crossed-legged in the middle of the bed. 

“I can’t give you what you want, Fernando.” He said, brushing Fernando’s face gently. Fernando stared pointedly at his feet. 

“You can. You are what I want.”

“But I can’t give you a kid-”

“-I do not want a kid.” Fernando said to his feet. Mark frowned.

“But you just said you-”

“-No I did not.” Fernando lied, risking a look at Mark. Without warning, the Australian caught Fernando in a kiss and slid his hand beneath his shirt and ran a finger along his nipple. Fernando recoiled from his touch and pushed him away. Mark suddenly got angry. 

“Fernando, you can’t just keep shutting me out! This won’t work if you don’t tell me what you’re thinking.” Mark’s eyes were wild with anger and pain and Fernando couldn’t bear to look at him. 

“Am telling-”

“-You’re not!” Mark seethed and Fernando flinched slightly. Mark took a deep breath and moved next to Fernando. He placed a hand gently on his hip. Fernando went to move away again but Mark held onto him. “Why are you doing that?” he asked softly. Fernando shook his head a little. 

“I don’t know what-”

“-Yes you do, Fernando. Why do you resent my touch?” Mark’s voice broke at the end of his question. Fernando looked at him with a heart broken expression. 

“I do not, Mark.” He said, tears swimming in his eyes. Mark lent forwards to kiss Fernando’s hipbone and the Spaniard rolled off the bed to get away from him. He sat with his back pressed against the bed and Mark hung his head over the end to look at him. Mark had proved his point. 

“Fernando, if you don’t tell me how can we fix this?” There was a small pause before he added. “Please.” Fernando took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

“Am afraid if I let you in I will hurt you again.” Fernando sighed. 

“You won’t hurt me, Fernando,” Mark muttered. Fernando looked over at him. 

“You don’t know this.” There was a pause and Mark felt his jaw lock in sadness. He’s worst fear seemed to overcome him. 

“So you don’t trust me anymore?” Mark asked sadly.

“No, I do trust you. More than anything, Mark, but I do not trust myself.” Fernando turned away from him and hugged his knees close to him. Mark slid off the bed and sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. For a moment they just sat together and Fernando found himself pulling closer to Mark. Everything he feared didn’t matter at that point; Mark had flown across from England to come and see him at a stupid hour of the morning. Maybe it was too late to try and not let Mark back in. Maybe he was already there. Mark kissed Fernando’s temple gently before nuzzling into his face. 

“Let me,” Mark cooed silently as he placed a delicate hand on Fernando’s hip. Fernando swallowed nervously as Mark began to kiss down his jawline. Fernando’s head lolled to the right as Mark continued down the left hand side of his neck. His breath caught in his throat as Mark sucked gently on the protruding end of his collarbone at the base of his neck. He ran his hand up Fernando’s shirt and brushed his fingertips along his side. Fernando felt himself flinch away from the delicate touch but Mark moved with him, constantly keeping their skin in contact. Holding him at the base of his ribs, Mark encouraged him to get up and perched him on the edge of the bed. Fernando looked up at his face as Mark lent in front of him so they were the same height. Mark brushed his lips softly before breaking all contact and pulling on Fernando’s red tie. 

Fernando watched Mark’s face and the concentration that resided there as Mark slowly undressed him. Mark pushed and pulled the material off his body, always leaving him momentarily to lay it over the back of a chair behind him. Those moment of absences gave Fernando the opportunity to leave if he wanted to, demand Mark to stop, but Fernando was captivated by the soft strokes of Mark’s fingers as new bare flesh was presented. The tie and the jacket came first, then slowly, button by button, Mark removed his white shirt. Once he had returned from that he had pushed on Fernando’s shoulders lightly and let him fall back on the duvet. He pulled each sock off slowly and left a lingering promise on Fernando’s feet. Fernando tensed as Mark undid his belt and pulled on the black material of his trousers, but still did not bolt. When Mark returned to the bed for the last time, Fernando was lying beneath him in just his boxers. 

Mark just looked at Fernando’s face for a moment, trying to read him, but Fernando’s skin itched for the touches Mark had so fleetingly given. Mark lay down on top of Fernando and caught his lips, keeping his weight off the Spaniard’s body by holding himself up on his arms. Fernando was still a little tense, but Mark kept kissing him until his hands began running up his sides, pulling on his own shirt. The grey material came over Mark’s head quickly and there was a natural pause in the moment where Mark brushed Fernando’s hair out of his face. Fernando lent into his touch and closed his eyes, his fingers finding the belt loops of Mark’s jeans. As Mark lent over him to continue his slow trail of kisses down his body, his denim-clad legs ran a harsh friction against the sensitive skin on his inner thigh. Fernando couldn’t stop the gasp it inflicted from him and he clung onto Mark’s back to make sure he didn’t leave. His instincts were screaming at him that this had gone too far but Fernando knew it hadn’t; it hadn’t gone far enough. Mark stopped his trail of kisses at Fernando’s hipbone and rested his chin on his navel, looking up at him. Fernando dung his fingers into Mark’s shoulders and pulled him back up his body, pushing his fingers into the small curl in his hair. Mark sighed, thinking Fernando had had enough. And that was OK. They had made progress tonight. It was a step in the right direction. 

“It’s all right, bub,” Mark said, smiling softly. Fernando watched his face as he dragged his toe up the back of Mark’s leg. He could see the shiver of anticipation as it rolled down Mark’s spine and he couldn’t help but let the smile escape slowly onto his lips. Mark seemed confused for a moment until Fernando was tugging down on the waistband of his jeans. They eased them off and Mark kicked them onto the floor without ceremony. As Mark kissed Fernando again, Fernando slid his hand slowly into Mark’s boxers and lightly brushed the tip of his half-erect cock. Mark’s gasp broke their kiss and Fernando pulled him back with his free hand. Fernando was making him trust himself. He could still give Mark everything he wanted to give and he was going to prove that to himself. He needed to know that this connection between them still went deeper than a few well-timed words and love-filled kisses. Mark’s eyes flickered shut as Fernando took a hold of him. And Mark found it harder and harder to continue to kiss Fernando as he began to move his hand, that warm buzz rolling through him. He tried to tell Fernando he didn’t have to do this but the feeling was too good. It had been too long since they had been like this, and maybe this wasn’t where Mark had intended the evening would go, but here they were. And Mark wasn’t going to let Fernando go. Not now. 

Mark’s head fell back from Fernando and he let it. The small hums of pleasure set fire through Fernando and he fell deeper into Mark, wanting to repay him for all of the times he had saved him over the past few weeks. Mark had told him about Dasha, Mark had abandoned his plans and stayed with him since France, Mark had got a plane at a stupid time in the morning just so Fernando wasn’t alone. And Fernando didn’t believe anyone else would have done any of that stuff for him. And it was only because Mark loved him so much that he had, he had risked everything himself to make sure Fernando was all right and happy. And Fernando couldn’t quite comprehend that much love. His lips clamped to Mark’s exposed neck as he tried to return even a small sum of what Mark had given him. The combination of Fernando’s gentle touches to his hard length and the determined connection to his neck were too much for Mark. He found himself panting for breath as a glorious moan escaped his teeth. And he felt Fernando smile on his neck, something he didn’t think he had seen the Spaniard do properly for so long. And it rekindled in Mark what they used to have, what he wanted back. Mark slid his hand down Fernando’s side and held his throbbing member in his hand without warning or ceremony. Fernando’s breath caught in his throat and Mark felt a pang of competition soak through him as he felt the grin slid from Fernando’s face. 

“Glad to get that smirk out the way,” Mark teased looking down at Fernando’s face. His hand had stopped mid-movement on Mark’s cock and it was taking everything in him not to rut against Fernando’s hand and achieve the friction he craved. “Don’t want you thinking you’re that good.” Fernando looked up into Mark’s eyes and matched his smirk. He could feel the need for competition radiating off the Australian. And Fernando wasn’t going to refuse when everything felt like it was going back to normal. 

“That’s just because you know I am and think that my ego doesn’t need another boost,” Fernando matched his tone. 

“Awfully confident in yourself,” Mark said, rolling them over so Fernando was pressed on top of him. They both stifled moans as they moved, each with a new set of determination in their eyes: they would not cum first. 

“If you are anything to go by…” Fernando muttered, moving so his lips were next to Mark’s ear. He let a soft moan escape his lips and felt the subsequent reaction in Mark’s cock. He smiled cockily as he gently kissed the skin below Mark’s ear and began sucking. Mark responded by pushing into Fernando’s pre-cum and smearing it on the top of his needy length. Fernando’s lips broke from Mark’s skin as he tried not to show how good Mark’s actions made him feel. He matched Mark’s actions and felt the Australian tense in pleasure below him. Their eyes connected and they silently agreed that the game was on. Their lips connected messily and they both moved their hands in synchronisation. Each of their moans vibrated in the other’s mouth and inflicted more pleasure. Both paces increased as they moved closer and closer to their climax. 

Fernando sucked on Mark’s bottom lip and in response Mark took his free hand and caressed Fernando’s balls, feeling them clench at his contact. Mark thought that that would give him the win; Fernando’s lips fell from his and his magnificent cries filed the air. When his eyes met Mark’s again they were dark with lust. Fernando moved himself slightly across Mark’s body and used his knee to tease Mark’s balls. Unknowing to either man until it happened, Fernando hit a sweet spot at the back of his testicles and Mark’s head fell back heavily on the pillow. Fernando’s lips attacked Mark’s hard nipples and the Australian thought he was through. He could feel himself tethering on the edge, but he could also feel Fernando was almost there as well. In a desperate attempt to score that win, Mark slowed his movements down incredibly, holding a little tighter and pushing Fernando’s cock through his hand at a devastatingly slow pace. Fernando hadn’t been ready for the change in pace and couldn’t help but cry out at the new pleasure. 

The tightness of Mark’s hand around him, making it feel like he was fighting through an unrelenting material, sent a new friction through him and he passed the tipping point. And the same time, both of them called for each other and they released to a satisfying wave of heat. Fernando collapsed onto Mark’s chest and both of them began panting hard. Both feeling truly salted, Mark somehow found the energy to lean across the bed and retrieve the wet wipes he had put in his bed side draw at the beginning of the week. He cleaned off his hands and took hold of Fernando’s, doing likewise. He then placed his hand in Fernando’s hair and began stroking his head in a rhythmic pattern as they both caught their breath. 

“Let’s call it a draw,” Mark sighed and Fernando nodded, both of them with a smug grin on their face. 

\- - - -

Fernando woke up in Mark’s arms to have the previous night’s activities replayed in his head. They had both got up and showered, eventually, and changed for bed, sinking deep into the warmth of each other. Fernando considered giving Mark a wake up call, but before he could even move he felt a pair of warm lips on his forehead. He tried to hide the bashful, love-filled smile from his face but it came crashing down anyway. Fernando snuggled closer to Mark and felt his reassuring hand lay softly on his shoulder blade. 

“Good morning,” Mark sighed, drawing patterns with his fingers on Fernando’s back. Fernando shivered and pulled closer, placing chaste kisses on Mark’s torso. He made his way slowly up to the Australian’s face and stole his lips. Mark smiled as the hand on Fernando’s shoulder slid into his hair. “Nice answer,” Mark smiled as they broke away. 

“I think so,” Fernando smile, moving so he was lying on top of Mark. Mark’s hands rested on his hips. 

“Fernando, I had a thought,” Mark said. Fernando could see he was trying to find the best way to phrase whatever he was trying to say. Fernando smiled at him.

“What’s that?” He asked sweetly, conveying to Mark to just say what he was thinking. 

“I think you should call your Dad.” Mark’s point caught Fernando off guard. 

“Why?” Fernando asked, confused.

“You’re hurting because you want to be a father and you can’t,” Mark started. Fernando still didn’t want to talk about this, but it was always easier with Mark. “I just think it will do you good to talk to your Dad, you know? Tell him how you’re feeling. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help.” Fernando looked down at Mark’s chest as he spoke. 

“Will be difficult,”

“Why’s that?” Fernando took a deep breath. 

“He does not know about us. Does not know I am…”

“Oh…” Mark was a little hurt but it was understandable why Fernando hadn’t told his parents. But Mark’s parents had been so fine when he had come out. He was sure Fernando’s parents would be just as supportive. “Well then… There is no time like the present.” Mark said as he sat up and Fernando climbed off him. Fernando crossed his legs and watched Mark like a curious child. His stomach dropped when Mark held out his own phone to him. 

“I do not think now-”

“-Fernando, if you don’t do it now when will you?” Mark had stern eyes and Fernando knew he was right. Reluctantly, he took the phone. “Just do it fast. Like pulling off a plaster.”

“Since when do you pull off plasters quickly?” Fernando asked, a small grin playing on his lips. Mark rolled his eyes as he copied Fernando’s sitting position in front of him. Their knees touched keeping them constantly in contact. 

“OK, then like a wax strip.” Mark said with a wink. Fernando blushed as he found his home number. It was half-eight in the morning but Fernando knew his parents would be awake. He lifted the phone to his ear and looked at Mark, who was smiling at him encouragingly. He placed a hand on Fernando’s knee and rubbed soothing circles into it. The phone rung four times before it was answered. His father spoke in Spanish and Fernando emulated that. Mark just watched for signs of tone changes to try and work out were the conversation was going. 

“Hello?” Fernando’s Dad said down the phone. Fernando was surprised at how relieved he was to hear his father’s voice.

“Papa? It’s me, Fernando,”

“Fernando! Ah! How wonderful! We were just discussing you.” His father smiled and Fernando couldn’t help but copy him. Mark took his expression change as a good thing, even if he didn’t understand the babble of foreign words that accompanied them. 

“Why’s that?”

“We were talking about Christmas. Tell me, when is it you are coming over?”

“Twenty-seventh to the twenty-ninth.”

“Good. We will tell Lorena.”

“That’s great.”

“And you will be bringing that girl of yours with you, yes?” There was a pause where Fernando swallowed nervously. Mark picked up on his change of mood and squeezed his leg. 

“Well-”

“-I supposed that is where you are going for Christmas, yes? You are going to hers?”

“Actually, Papa, that was what I was calling about.” It was too late to turn back now. Fernando looked at Mark who gave him a reassuring smile. Like a wax strip.

“Oh yeah? Has there been a change of plan?”

“Slightly-”

“-Are you still bringing her here? It’s only so your Mother knows about food.”

“I am bringing someone, yes… But not her.” Fernando sighed, letting his eyes close. He felt Mark’s hand catch his cheek and it was reassuring that Mark still wanted to be present in the conversation. Fernando pushed into his touch, conveying his thanks. 

“Not her? Has something happened?”

“Yes… She… I mean, we… I’m not…”

“Fernando, please. You know how much it annoys me when people stumble on their words.”

“Right.”

“Just spit it out.” Fernando took a deep breath.

“We’re not together anymore.” There was a small pause in which Fernando heard his father close a door. Maybe he had been in the same room as his Mother and had not wanted her to over hear. Fernando breathed deeply and Mark caressed his cheek. 

“Fernando, I am so sorry. What happened?”

“I ended it.” Fernando said strongly. The way Mark was holding his cheek filled him with happiness and pride with what they shared. And the renewed confidence made him more determined to tell his father. He could tell his father was a little shocked by the bluntness of his words. 

“You ended it? But you always looked so happy on the television.”

“We were, but then we weren’t.” There was another pause, but when his father’s voice returned it was not an approachable voice. It was stern and serious. 

“Did you cheat on her, Fernando?” He was hurt by his father’s accusation and opened his eyes to look at Mark, hoping to gain some kind of strength from the Australian. Mark was still smiling encouragingly but he could see the tears brimming in Fernando’s eyes. He let go of Fernando’s face and held Fernando’s free hand instead. Fernando knew technically he had cheated on Dasha, but on that very same night she had cheated on him. So was that really cheating? His father would think so. He lied. 

“No, Papa. I wouldn’t do that.” Fernando felt the guilt burn strong in his stomach. His father seemed a little relieved. 

“Good. I know we raised you better than that. It’s like I said when you were unhappy with Raquel: don’t hang around waiting for one of you to make a mistake. Get out.”

“Yeah. I remember.”

“So then why did it end?” Fernando looked at Mark and let that pride swell in him again as he answered his father. 

“I fell in love with someone else.” He smiled slightly. 

“How long ago?”

“About three months.”

“Three? Fernando you can’t know if it’s love or infatuation after three months.”

“Papa, I’ve known them for more than three months… I’ve known them for ages… I just… Realised it was love about three months ago.”

“You’ve known them for ages? It must be someone we know,” Fernando sighed and looked down at Mark and his interlocked fingers. 

“Yeah, you know them.”

“Well, come on then, who is it?” His father seemed excited. But Fernando knew what he thought of homosexual people. He knew this wasn’t going to go well and he held Mark’s hand tighter for support. 

“Mark.” Fernando said in a voice that was barely audible. His father still heard him. 

“Mark? That’s a very masculine name for a girl,” His father started and Fernando didn’t say anything. Because he knew soon the penny would drop. “Fernando? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, Papa.” Fernando muttered, feeling Mark’s eyes burning on him. Even if he hadn’t been able to translate the conversation he would have heard his own name. Fernando couldn’t get the courage to look up at him. 

“So what’s this Mark-girl like? Is that who you are bringing to dinner?” He seemed happy. He wouldn’t be shortly. 

“Not… Not a…”

“Fernando, you have to speak up; I cannot hear you,” Fernando took a deep breath and swallowed nervously. Mark was trying everything he could to reassure Fernando, make him feel like he was doing the right thing. Fernando gripped his hand as a signal to stop; he just needed to feel Mark was here. That was all he needed right now. Mark place his other hand on the back of Fernando’s and drew small circles with his fingers. 

“Mark Webber.” Fernando sighed, his voice louder than it was before. 

“Mark Webber? What does he have-?” Fernando’s father’s voice stopped abruptly and he knew it had dawned on him. Mark tipped Fernando’s chin up so he looked at him. It took every ounce of Fernando not to fall into his arms and curled around him. Mark caught the tear from under his eyes and could feel Fernando was on breaking point. He got up and moved behind his, always holding onto Fernando’s hand. He wrapped his legs around Fernando’s and hooked his arms around his torso. Fernando fell back into him and Mark rocked them slowly and subtly. 

“Papa?” Fernando asked tentatively, leaning closer into Mark’s hold. He heard his father clear his throat.

“And you think it is wise to bring him here? Bring him here to your mother?” His voice was like stone and it cut through Fernando. Cut through any confidence he may have had. More silent tears leaked from his eyes and Mark pulled him closer. 

“I want you to understand, Papa. I want you to love him like he is family.” His father scoffed and it broke Fernando to pieces. 

“If you have to bring him here he comes under the pretence of being a friend. I will not let your mother know about this. God knows what it would do to her if she found out.”

“Papa, please-”

“-No, Fernando. I want you to think very very carefully about this because it is the biggest mistake of your life.” Fernando felt his anger burning in him before he could stop it. 

“You don’t understand! You have no idea what we have been through! I love him, Papa. I love him and I always will. No one will ever change my mind on that! And if I am lucky enough that some day he will ask me to marry him I will say yes! And that is something you will have to deal with!” Fernando seethed. Mark tried to calm him down but there seemed no point. After Fernando’s spat words were delivered down the line there was a brief pause before his father spoke again. 

“I’m very disappointed in you, Fernando. If you speak one word of this to your mother I will personally kill you. And if you ever marry him…” Fernando could tell his father was angry. He sighed deeply, calming himself before he spoke again. “I won’t accept you as a son of mine.” In the dead wake of his words the line was cut off. Fernando had frozen. All the fight, all the pride, all the sadness… It had all seeped away from him. And more silent tears fell onto his face. He felt nothing. His father’s last words stung and Fernando couldn’t accept them. Before he knew it he had dropped the phone and fallen back into Mark’s hold, curling into him and crying hard. Mark didn’t need to hear the conversation to know it hadn’t gone well. He felt bad for making Fernando call his parents. He thought it would help. 

“I’m sorry,” Mark cooed, rubbing Fernando’s back. Fernando shook his head to signal that Mark shouldn’t be sorry. Fernando wasn’t blaming Mark, he was blaming his father and his stupid, narrow-minded, stuck in the past opinions. His father had never been all that happy about change. He wasn’t ever surprised when Lorena rejected the kart he had made her and went for a doll instead. Maybe that was when his opinions had been set in stone. Men did some things; women did others, and never could a man love another man. Fernando calmed down and stopped crying eventually. Mark just held him in his arms and rocked him slightly. 

“I’m proud of you, Fernando,” Mark said, gently touching his lips to the top of Fernando’s head. Fernando leaned into his touch, craving more of it. He felt like everyone was disowning him but Mark. He held himself closer to Mark, breathing heavily on his natural scent. 

“He’s not.” Fernando said, wiping his eyes. 

“Well, stuff him. I’m proud you stood up to him, Fer.”

“He said…” Fernando was going to mention the fact that if he ever married Mark his father would disown him, but the thought that that might put Mark off asking the question held his tongue. “He’s disappointed.”

“But you still told him. He knows now and you held onto that. You didn’t let his disappointment waver you in what you believe, what you want.” Mark kissed him again and lay back on the bed, bringing Fernando with him. He adjusted them, with Fernando’s help, until they were both comfortably under the duvet. Fernando’s head was resting on Mark chest just above his heart. He loved the rhythmic pulse of life he could hear emulating from Mark and it made him relax. What Fernando didn’t realise was that he was absent-mindedly brushing his right fingertips along the ring finer on his left hand. Mark had his arm wrapped around his shoulder and was rubbing his arm soothingly. 

“I love you, Mark. No matter what anyone says.” Fernando muttered, kissing the point above Mark’s beating heart. The soft intimate connection made Mark hold him tighter. 

“I love you too, Fernando. Forever I’ll be yours.”


	30. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The main reason Santa is so jolly is because he knows where all the bad girls live”  
> ~George Carlin~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to anyone who has read this Fic and supported me. Even if you have not commented or left kudos but have still read it, this is for you. It is my gift at Christmas to all of you as a thank you for being so great and - hopefully - enjoying my work. It is so great to have people reading this work and its success has been surprising and well received. Thank you all so much. I hope you all had a fantastic Christmas and got everything you wanted. 
> 
> Merry Christmas ^_^ 
> 
>  
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was a few days before the madness of Christmas settled when Fernando and Mark found themselves in Westfield doing their Christmas shopping. Mark had stayed with Fernando until he was done in Maranello and then they had returned to England. They were going to spend the week building up to Christmas and Christmas at Mark’s then fly to Spain and spend a few days with Fernando’s parents – which Fernando was definitely not looking forward to – and then finish at Fernando’s for the new year. Fernando had said to Mark that they could just skip the meeting with his parents but Mark wanted to meet them and he knew, deep down, it was important to Fernando to. Walking into the big shopping centre in Strafford was like walking into chaos. Fernando found his grip on Mark’s hand tighten slightly at the prospect of trying to fight through all the late shoppers. Mark smiled down at him.

“Welcome to English shopping.” Mark laughed as a woman with a screaming child pushed past them and Fernando moved closer to Mark to get out of their way. “Surely it’s as bad as this in Spain?”

“Yes, but English people are mental.” Fernando smiled, taking the opportunity of closeness to Mark and pushed into him. 

“I hope you like queuing.” Mark commented, leading Fernando into the crowd. It was wonderful having this many people surrounding them; they could hold each other’s hand without the fear of being discovered. Everyone was too engrossed in what they were doing themselves to notice the two drivers cutting through the crowd. Fernando relished in the feeling of holding Mark’s hand in public: something that had been tabooed since they started seeing each other. It was refreshing. 

The first shop they went in Mark was looking for something for his sister. The overpowering smells coming from the shop made Fernando’s eyes water. His hand fell from Mark’s as he hovered by the door trying his hardest to breath in some clear air. Mark smiled at him and moved through the shop quickly, knowing exactly what he was looking for. Leanne had a favourite kind of bath, smelly thing from the shop that Mark didn’t understand. He brought her a couple as an add-on to his other present for her and left the shop to go and retrieve Fernando. Mark couldn’t help but laugh at him. Fernando shot him a look as Mark’s fingers enclosed his. 

“What the fuck was that?” Fernando asked after taking a huge lungful of clear air. Mark smiled at him.

“Lush. It’s a shop that sells bath things and smelly crap.”

“Does it have to be that strong?” Mark shrugged at Fernando’s question. 

“Leanne likes it, I’m just complying for her needs like any good brother would.” He gave Fernando a side-glance as they moved through a crowd of women who were babbling about someone’s present and panicking at the concept that there weren’t any left in stock. “Don’t want to get something for Lorena?” Mark teased.

“Am never setting foot in that shop again.” Fernando stated and Mark laughed at him. They moved from shop to shop buying presents and laughing at the other people. They would detach themselves as they entered a shop and relink hands once they were safely buried in the crowd. Only a couple of times were they stopped by people who took double glances as they rushed past. They went to the food court and got noodles for their lunch. There were a few tables of calm people around them, but most were scoffing down food in a desperate attempt to return to their shopping. It made Mark and Fernando laugh. 

“So after this we’re going to split up.” Mark said casually, making Fernando choke on his mouthful of noodles. His panicked eyes made Mark realise what he had said. “No, you idiot,” He smiled and Fernando blushed. “Split up and do our own shopping. I have some things I need to get for you and you can’t see them.”

“Sorry.” Fernando muttered. How Mark wished he could have lent across the table and kissed him. He settled instead for running his foot up Fernando’s leg. 

“You’re such a dork,” Mark teased. 

“We agreed five presents each, yes?” Fernando confirmed, changing the subject. Mark nodded, returning to his noodles. 

“Yeah. Five presents. And don’t go mad.” Mark said, pointing his fork at Fernando. Fernando looked at him innocently but Mark knew him too well. “I know you, Fernando.”

“You have such low standards of me,” Fernando teased.

“No, you have too high standards of me. I don’t need something gold encrusted or, you know, something fancy of that sort. Just a beer and sports is good for me.” Mark said, returning to his food. 

“Do not buy fancy things.” Fernando pouted in jest. Mark extracted the £75 bottle of perfume he had brought for Lorena. “She likes this. Like Leanne likes your smelly thing.” Mark stuck his tongue out and put the bottle away. 

“Its just Christmas, Fer. You can splash out on my birthday.”

“But this is ages away.”

“Well you will just have to be patient then,” Mark smiled and Fernando rolled his eyes. They finished their food and moved back into the connotation of crazy. Mark lent over to Fernando as if going to whisper something in his ear and kissed his cheek quickly, covering his own mouth with his hand just in case. Fernando squirmed pleasantly as Mark straightened up. “I’ll meet you here in about an hour?”

“Sounds good,” Fernando smiled and Mark gave him a nod. Before he knew it Mark had vanished into the sea of people and Fernando was left standing alone. He let his fingers briefly touch the place Mark’s lips had just been before he pushed himself forwards in the opposite direction to Mark. Fernando was determined to still buy Mark something expensive, even if he had been banned. He just had to find a cheeky way around it…

Mark set off in the direction of W.H.Smiths. He had called ahead and asked them to hold a specific book for him, which they had been more than happy to do. Mark only had four presents to get for Fernando as one was already at home, happily wrapped and waiting to be opened. His one big present that he knew Fernando would call him a hypocrite for. But that didn’t matter. Anticipation tingled through Mark as he entered the shop. That one had to be opened last. 

Fernando had made his way back up to the first floor and was walking around trying to find a good shop. Alike Mark, though unknown to the other, Fernando only had four presents to get. He had found something in Maranello that was too good to not get. He just hoped Mark would love it as much as he did. He decided to play his first present safe and headed into The Perfume Shop knowing exactly what he was looking for thanks to a secret text to Leanne. 

The hour seemed to pass by quickly, but when Mark returned to their meeting point he found Fernando was already there. The Spaniard had put his headphones in and was sat on a bench, scuffing his feet on the floor in time to the music. He was looking at his feet and so didn’t see Mark approaching. Mark touched his shoulder and Fernando looked up, smiling and unhooking his headphones from his ears. 

“How long have you been sitting here, mate?” Mark asked in a bemused tone. Fernando consulted his watch. 

“About twenty minutes.”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“You are the one who suggested an hour. Thought you needed all of the time.” Fernando stood up and pushed his headphones into his pocket. “Is clear now you did.”

“Fair enough,” Mark said as he retook Fernando’s hand. They moved through the crowd of people again until they made it to the car park. Even though Fernando insisted on paying for half of the parking fee Mark refused, claiming it was his car. They crossed the car park and found the car easily. Mark put his bags in the back of the car and Fernando took the boot. They fell into easy conversation on the way back to Mark’s house and shared stories of hilarious shoppers they had seen today. The mother with the wailing child, the panicking women wondering if their present would be in stock, a man who obviously had never come shopping without his wife and couldn’t make a decision and the woman who was moaning that her partner never listened as he trudged behind her begging her not to make a scene. Mark and Fernando were both happy with their haul from the day and entered Mark’s house with a satisfied feeling. Mark showed Fernando to the spare room, telling him he could store his presents in there and once they had both disposed of their bags they fell happily into each others arms on the sofa. 

“Just the wrapping to do now.” Mark sighed, fingers brushing through Fernando’s hair as he placed a small kiss on the Spaniard’s forehead. Fernando wriggled closer to him.

“Your parents are coming here in a couple of days?” Fernando asked. 

“That’s right. They’ll stay here and have an early Christmas with us.” 

“And have you told them...” Fernando let his voice linger, hoping Mark would understand his question.

“About us?” Mark asked, looking for confirmation. Fernando nodded. “Yeah, I told them a little while ago.” Fernando looked up at him. 

“When was this?”

“When they came to the America Grand Prix. They wanted to come and see you but I told them it was under the radar for now. They were a little annoyed at me but I told them they would get their chance. They’re very excited to be introduced to my boyfriend.” Mark said, nuzzling at Fernando’s face. Fernando smiled slightly but pushed himself to ask the question that was burning on his tongue. 

“How did they react?”

“Huh?” Mark asked, confused. 

“When you told them about me. How did they react?” Fernando had moved again so he was looking at Mark’s face clearly again. Mark sighed and rubbed Fernando’s back. 

“They were ecstatic, mate,” Mark sighed a little sadly. 

“This is a good thing, no?” Fernando said, confused by Mark’s tint of sadness. 

“I know why you’re asking.” Mark said, matching Fernando’s gaze. Fernando curled back into him. 

“Do not understand why they won’t accept it.”

“To be honest, they have known I’ve liked you since Abu Dhabi in 2010.” Mark said, unaware of really quite how much he had just told Fernando. Fernando looked back up at him. 

“You liked me since then?” Fernando asked and Mark cleared his throat awkwardly. Fernando felt the smile spreading on his face. 

“Err… Well, see. Now, when I say ‘like’ I mean… As a-as a really good, close… Erm… Friend?”

“Am sure this is what you mean,” Fernando smiled sarcastically. Mark let his had rest on his hips. 

“Fine. Yes I liked you since then. For that long. My folks were a little shocked when I came out to them, but they understood. They supported me and they told me that there were other people in the world but you. I could barely stand to hear their words and if my Dad hadn’t forced his way back into my life, pulling my Mum along with him, then I probably wouldn’t be talking to them now. They said all the things I didn’t want to hear but at the time it was the truth. And I needed to hear it. So when I told them we were together they were relieved. And I’m so glad I have their support so I know how hard this must be for you. Just know that I’ll always stand by you, as will my folks. I know they’re not your parents but they really will love you, Fernando.”

Fernando kissed Mark and let himself mould to his body. Because really that was all he was asking for: to be understood, supported that the decisions he was making were the right ones. He relaxed back into Mark’s hold and listened to Mark’s breathing as the familiar patterns Mark always orchestrated appeared on his back. 

\- - - - -

Fernando and his Mum were in the kitchen. Fernando had claimed he wanted to cook for them but his Mum had insisted she helped. He could hear them talking happily from the kitchen and it made him smile. Fernando just seemed to click into his family and it worked. He was annoyed at Fernando’s Dad for just rejecting him as he had, but they were thoughts for another time; not this happy, warm time. Mark’s Dad, Alan, cleared his throat from the other side of the room and Mark turned, reading the knowing look on his face. Mark rolled his eyes as his Dad lifted his whisky to his lips. He smacked them happily.

“So when are you going to ask him the question?” His Dad asked. Mark dove across the room shh-ing him. His Dad laughed at him as Mark settled into the sofa opposite the armchair he Dad had occupied. “Soon then.”

“He has no idea so I would appreciate a subtle tone,” Mark whispered across the room. 

“You know I don’t have a subtle tone, Son.” Alan smiled, sitting himself up. He then mimicked his Son’s whispered tone. “And if you whisper to me he will know you are talking about him.” Mark rolled his eyes, evoking a smile from his Dad. “Besides, if your Mother gets him onto a conversation about Spanish food he will never get a chance to shut up,”

“What was your original point, Dad?” Mark asked, returning his voice to his normal tone. 

“It’s like he worships the ground you’ve been on, Mark. The way he looks at you.” His Dad beamed at him and Mark could help but blush. “It’s always beautiful when you get to see real love.”

“I learnt from the best,” Mark smiled back, making his Dad chuckle. 

“As much as I would like to take credit, it’s not something you can learn. It has to be found. And my god, Mark, you’ve found it.” Mark found himself looking back towards the kitchen door, in the direction of Fernando’s voice. Alan beamed at his Son, recognising that pure look of love and longing on his face. 

“…Is simple really. Paella is basically throwing things into the pan with rice. But if you do it in the right way then you get the amazing blend of flavours and that’s what makes it special.” Fernando was saying to Diane. Alan and Mark share a smirk. 

“Poor Fernando,” Alan joked and Mark turned back to him and sighed, not looking at his Dad. His hands clutched around his cup of tea and he pulled it close to his chest, pretending the heat it gave off was Fernando. 

“We’ve been thorough a lot,” Mark said to his Dad as he took a sip of his whisky. Alan nodded. Mark had filled him and Diane, Mark’s Mum, in about what Seb had done in those two weeks between Brazil and the FIA Gala. They had been the ones to persuade him to wait until that evening in France to tell Fernando. 

“I know. But look where you are now. Look how much stronger it has made you both.”

“I know, Dad,” Mark smiled. Alan pushed himself out of his chair and crossed to place his hand on his son’s shoulder. 

“Mark, don’t let him go again. Lock him away and savour him for the rest of your life,” Mark placed his hand on top of his Dad’s.

“It’s my plan.” Mark said and Alan patted his shoulder. He moved back across the room and settled back down in his seat. 

“So next time we see you you’re going to be introducing him as your fiancée rather than your boyfriend?” Alan teased and Mark blushed again.

“Dad, please.”

“All right. All right.” Alan said, taking another mouthful of whisky. He opened his mouth to speak again but the kitchen door opened and Fernando came into the room. He froze in his tracks when he saw both Mark and Alan looking at him but Mark’s small laugh made him blush and he moved over to his boyfriend. Mark touched Fernando’s hip as he rested against the back of the sofa. 

“Mr Webber-?”

“Please, son, call me Alan. You don’t have to be formal with me,” Alan repeated for the fourth time that day. Mark smiled up at Fernando who blushed slightly. 

“Yes, sorry…”

“He is very polite, Mark, maybe you should learn something from him,” Alan commented. Mark turned back to his father, keeping a hold of Fernando’s jeans.

“Or maybe I haven’t got round to corrupting him yet.” Mark suggested.

“Would like to see you try.” Fernando smiled.

“That sounds like a challenge,” Mark said, getting up and perching on the arm of the chair so he was the same height as Fernando and placing both of his hands on Fernando’s hips. 

“Maybe it was.” Fernando smirked. 

“And some fight! I can see why you like him, Mark,” Alan laughed from his armchair, placing his empty glass on the carpet. Mark turned to his father and stuck his tongue out at him. Fernando blushed. 

“Mr- Sorry – Alan, your wife says that she wants a paella dish… Sorry,”

“That’s no problem, Fernando,” Alan said, getting up and heading over to the kitchen. “She sees something she doesn’t have in our kitchen and it becomes a necessity.” He paused briefly to clap Fernando on the shoulder. “One day she’ll run out of things to buy.” Fernando smiled as Alan moved away. As soon as he had disappeared into the kitchen he turned back to Mark. 

“This is news. Am going to be corrupted?” Fernando teased, letting his arms snake around Mark’s neck. 

“I thought I’d already done quite a good job,” Mark shrugged as he kissed Fernando. Fernando kissed back and Mark let them slide backwards onto the sofa. Fernando made to get up but Mark held him closely. 

“Mark, your parents are in the other room.”

“You are very polite.” Mark commented as he kissed down Fernando’s neck. “And you’re very worried about getting caught…” Mark added, running his fingers slowly down Fernando’s side. 

“Mark… Please…” Fernando breathed in Mark’s ear. Mark smiled wirily. 

“Please what? Stop or carry on?” Mark teased. Just as Mark began to suck on the most sensitive skin on Fernando’s neck they heard the kitchen door open. Fernando rolled off Mark so quick he had the Australian in fits of laughter. Fernando got up onto his feet and blushed violently. Alan smirked as he crossed back into the seating area and fell into his armchair. Mark tucked both of his hands behind his head and looked at Fernando. 

“Time and place, Mark,” Alan teased, taking a sip of his new whisky. Mark sat himself up and swung his feet off the chair. 

“Sorry…" Mark said, eyeing up Fernando. “I just couldn’t resist.” Fernando flushed brilliantly and headed out of the room. Mark caught him easily and pulled him close, stealing a kiss and shielding it from his Dad with his back. 

“He will kill you, Mark. Trust me. You’re mother wasn’t a fan of the humiliating situations,” Alan commented as Mark turned around, keeping Fernando trapped safely in his arms who also turned to face his Dad. 

“But you’re still alive and well… Maybe they just pretend to hate it,” Mark nuzzled at Fernando’s neck but he squirmed in his grip. Mark planted a kiss on his temple and let him go. Fernando smiled slightly and moved back towards the kitchen. Alan noticed how he let his fingers briefly touch the last point of contact he had had with Mark before his hands fell back to his side and he went back to join Diane. Alan turned to Mark as he settled himself on the chair. 

“Does he always do that?” Alan asked and Mark frowned. 

“Do what?” Mark asked. Alan looked back towards the kitchen and a smile crept onto his face. He shook his head slightly in a way that told Mark it didn’t matter and not to ask again. Mark's unawareness of the way Fernando recorded his kisses was a plain enough sign that it was something he did a lot and it was his own personal way of keeping Mark with him.

“Ask him. Soon.” Alan smiled as he settled back in his chair and took another long drag from his glass. 

\- - - - -

Mark’s parents had been great, but that wasn’t the first thought on Fernando’s mind this morning. He had awoken to remembering how wonderful they had been every morning since they left, but today was different. Today was a special day. Fernando always woke before Mark, so he knew – as he placed chaste kisses up Mark’s naked torso – that the small pressure he emitted would rouse the Australian. As Fernando got to Mark’s face, his eyelids fluttered open and he took in the sight on the man on top of him. Mark smiled as Fernando stole a kiss from his lips. 

“Best wake up call ever,” Mark sighed, his hands falling onto Fernando’s hips. 

“Don’t expect it every morning.” Fernando teased as he rolled of Mark and climbed out of bed. Mark watched him cross the room and pull on some socks before securing a black hoodie over himself, stealing the morning view of him half naked to the waist. 

“Aww!” Mark moaned and Fernando smiled. “No morning fondle today then.” Fernando grabbed Mark’s own hoodie and threw it at him. It hit Mark’s face but that didn’t drown out his beautiful laugh. Fernando crossed the room and climbed back on top of Mark who happily held onto his hips. 

“Are so bad.” Fernando teased as Mark rubbed circles into his hips. 

“But that’s why you love me.” Mark commented and pulled Fernando down for a longer, more suggestive kiss. Fernando pulled away from his mouth reluctantly and smirked as Mark pouted up at him. 

“Merry Christmas, Mark.” Mark sighed and let a smile overcome his face. 

“Merry Christmas, Fernando.”

\- - -

With some moaning from Mark, Fernando finally dragged him down the stairs. Their fingers were interlinked as Fernando led Mark through the house he was becoming more familiar with. The short journey down to the tree reminded Fernando of the excitement he had felt at this point when he was younger. Memories of those Christmases filled his mind as the walked into the room that had the tree in it. Fernando was ready to add his first Christmas with Mark to that memory bank. 

Fernando sat himself crossed-legged on the floor as Mark moved over to the CD player and put Michael Bublé’s Christmas album on. He moved back over to Fernando and lay down on his side, propping his head up with his elbow. He positioned himself so Fernando was sat by his knees. Fernando set about dividing their presents out and Mark tapped his foot to the music watching him. He noticed that all of Fernando’s presents were wrapped in plain red wrapping which made him smile. Mark had used classical Christmas paper for his presents. When Fernando placed the box wrapped in white on his pile Mark picked it up and placed it on his own. Fernando frowned at him. 

“This one is for last.” Mark commented and Fernando nodded, carrying on. Mark watched as Fernando gave the present Mark had taken a curious side-glance every now and then. Mark sat up and rubbed between Fernando’s shoulders, placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder. Once Fernando was finished, Mark repositioned himself so he sat with his legs out straight, in a ‘v’ position, with Fernando sat at his left knee and his presents sat at his right. 

“You go first.” Fernando smiled. He lent over to Mark’s pile and extracted one of his red presents. “Just not this one first. Leave until last.” 

“Alright,” Mark nodded and picked up the rectangular parcel from his parents. The smile crashed over his face as he tore back the paper. Relationships for Dummies. Fernando tipped the book cover forwards to read the title and smiled also. “Aha. Yeah, should have expected that from the folks,” Mark smiled.

“Maybe they don’t think you are good enough with me,” Fernando teased. Mark stuck his tongue out and threw the paper at him. 

“You’re go.” Mark said. Fernando followed suit and unwrapped the gift from his parents. It was a bottle of Spanish red wine. Mark took it and examined it. “Nice. That’s good wine.”

“One day they will remember I do not drink,” Fernando smiled.

“Well I’m sure we can enjoy it later.” Mark said, handing it back. Fernando put it next to him and turned back to Mark. This routine continued. Mark got a selection of wines from Ann and the kids and Leanne sent him some home videos he had talked about earlier on that year. Fernando was happy to stop unwrapping to watch them but Mark felt the burn of excitement as his eyes fell on the present he had taken from Fernando. There would be time to watch the videos later. Lorena sent Fernando a waxing kit as a joke and a Spanish recipe book and Ferrari had sent him the standard red box with a bottle of champagne and two Ferrari champagne flutes and a signed team photo. Mark was particularly interested in the red box.

“That all that’s in there?” Mark asked in an unconvinced tone. Fernando frowned at him.

“That’s what I normally get,” Fernando said, looking down at the box. Mark shrugged, fingers lingering on the red tray. Tray. Was it normally a tray? Fernando caught the edge with his fingers and lifted it. Mark smiled. Underneath was another present. It was thin and as big as the box in a square shape. Fernando picked it up and looked at Mark. “You did this?”

“Not me, mate,” Mark smiled. Fernando flicked the tag over and read the name. From Andrea. He looked back at Mark. 

“But you knew.”

“Yeah, I knew it was there. He told me because he needed to make sure you would look.” Mark said, lying slightly. Mark had gone to Andrea for some advice and off the back of that advice Andrea had got him this present. Mark rubbed his hand along Fernando’s shoulders. Fernando tore the soft tissue wrapping away and a leather-bound black book rested in his hands. He looked up at Mark for confirmation and Mark nodded at him to open the book. It was a photo album. Andrea had filled the first four pages with pictures from the year: his wins in Spain and China, his other podiums over the year, photos from his garage of Andrea and Stefano and Felipe. Then Mark started appearing, photos of them waiting to go onto the track or on the drivers parade or the podium. Italy had a whole page dedicated to it and then the images from the preparations on track in Brazil arrived. And then the photos of Mark and his trip to London. Fernando looked up at Mark. 

“You helped.” Fernando smiled. Mark kissed his cheek. 

“He asked me if I had any photos of us and so I helped, yeah.” Mark said, resting his chin on Fernando’s shoulder and looked down at the album. Andrea had really done a good job of collaging the photos. The one of Mark and him at the Tower of London was central and larger than the others. Mark had mentioned that it was one of his favourites and Andrea had obviously taken that on board. Fernando got to the last page of photos and frowned slightly. He skimmed the next few pages but realised they were all empty as well. 

“He stopped.” Fernando said, a little sadly. Just seeing all of the photos together made Mark and his relationship so much more real. Mark hugged him tighter. 

“You’ve got to carry it on. Fill it with photos you take in the future.” Mark said and Fernando smiled. He felt bad that he hadn’t got Andrea much when obviously the Italian had put a lot of time into his gift. He made a mental note to repay him in the New Year. But for now, he turned his attention back to Mark.

“Your go,” Fernando said, catching his cheek with his lips. Mark kept hold of Fernando as he looked over to his pile.

“Any one in particular?” 

“Just not this one.” Fernando said, pointing to the present he had indicated earlier. Mark nodded and picked up a rectangular package. He pulled off the wrapping to reveal an expensive beer collection. Mark gave him a look. “What? You said beer and sports was good for you,” Fernando smiled innocently. Mark rolled his eyes at him and kissed him. 

“Thank you, it’s very nice.” Mark sighed, pulling himself closer to Fernando. 

“Is what I thought.” Fernando teased. Mark kissed his neck and then passed him one of the four presents left on his pile. Fernando took it and happily tore the paper off. He frowned as he took in the cover of the Finnish Translations book. 

“So you can understand Kimi next year,” Mark said as if it was obvious and Fernando burst into laughter. They worked through the rest of their presents until each of them only had one left. Fernando had got Mark the new Lee Child book – which was the next in the series he was reading - and Cool Water by David Davidoff cologne. The fourth large box he opened confused him a little. Initially, he had thought Fernando had brought him Sebastian’s remote controlled Red Bull, but under further inspection he noted that there was a two on the car and the helmet colours matched his own. 

“That’s me,” Mark smiled, holding up the scaled down version of his car. Fernando beamed at him. 

“Yes. Is the only one of you.” Mark frowned at Fernando’s comment. 

“What do you mean?”

“They come together,” Fernando said as he pulled the miniature version of his Ferrari out the box. “Is not normally you but I asked the company if they could do me a favour. They were more than happy to help.” Fernando placed his finger lightly on the little ‘two’ on the nose of the car before taking it from Mark’s hand and placing it next to the little Ferrari, smiling nostalgically. “Now we can still race together.” Mark caught Fernando’s lips before the Spaniard even realised he had moved. He pulled Fernando on top of him until Mark was lying on the floor with his fingers weaved into his hair. Fernando always focused on the little details. That’s why Andrea had known the photo album would be the best gift. And this was too amazing. Fernando had gone to all of the effort of getting the car personalised for him. Neither of them wanted to break their deep, intimate kiss. It was like they were moulding into each other in such a way that they could never truly leave. And Mark loved that. Craved that. Fernando aversely pulled away from Mark to catch his breath. 

“You’re amazing.” Mark smiled, stroking Fernando’s face. Fernando sighed deeply and curled into Mark. Mark cradled Fernando as he sat himself back up. His eyes fell on the two little cars and Mark pushed his lips into Fernando’s cheek. 

“Am not that good. Just… thought it was a nice memento.” Fernando commented, pulling Mark closer. 

“It’s perfect.” Mark said, nuzzling the side of his face. Fernando blushed but he didn’t care. Mark wrapped an arm securely around his waist and handed him a present. Mark got Fernando a shoe cleaning kit, as he had been moaning in Maranello that his shoes looked scruffy. It was an Italian kit and so was guaranteed to be of a professional standard. Also, some more of the purple/blue pyjamas he lived in (two pairs, one a navy blue and one a deep red) and a Samurai book. The book was Spanish and so Mark hoped he had got Fernando the right one. His boyfriend seemed more than happy so he decided he had done a good job. Fernando climbed out of Mark’s lap and sat in front of him, crossed-legged, when they both had one left. Mark mirrored his new position. Fernando picked up Mark’s last present and held it out. His eyes lit up as Mark took it from him and slid his finger slowly beneath the folds of paper. Mark paused. 

“So why did this one have to be last?” Mark asked, smirking slightly at the impatience that was threatening to fill Fernando’s eyes.

“You will see.” Fernando smiled. He didn’t take his eyes off Mark’s finger. Mark slid the paper open delicately, pulling the red paper away. Mark’s slow and torturous unwrapping had Fernando sitting on his hands as to not rip the paper for him. Eventually, with a small smirk from Mark, he screwed the unneeded paper in his hand and looked down at the shirt Fernando had got him. From the way it was folded, it was clear it was a Ferrari shirt. Mark smiled as he lifted it, expecting to see the 2013 design. He was met, however, with a design he did not recognise. He went to shake the shirt out and hold it by the shoulders when Fernando held one of the folds in place, obscuring the right hand side of the shirt. Mark looked at him.

“This isn’t 2013.” Mark stated. Fernando smiled and gave a small shake of his head. 

“Is exclusive.” Mark looked at him again with an expression that encouraged him to elaborate. “Whilst I was in Maranello, I spoke with the brand designer for next year and asked if he could help me out.” Fernando said as Mark’s eyes widened. A 2014 Ferrari shirt. Mark looked back at it. How Fernando did these things was unbelievable. Mark looked back up at him. 

“It’s 2014?” Mark asked and Fernando nodded. 

“Has not been released yet so you can’t wear it out until it is, but yes. Is 2014.” Fernando said and he let go of the fold he was holding. Mark laid it out over their laps to get a better look at it when his eyes fell over the right hand side. And on to the little red panel. That all of the drivers and head personal had on their shirts. And it had a name on it. His name on the Ferrari shirt. Mark Webber. Mark looked back up to Fernando. “Oh, yeah. Well that was just in case we get them mixed up,” Fernando said with a blush. He wanted to make Mark feel like he belonged to a team in Formula One even if he wasn’t driving for one any more. And Mark seemed to get that. It was a wonderful gift and Mark pulled Fernando’s face close and brought their lips together. Fernando smiled. “So you like it?”

“I love it, mate,” Mark said, kissing his forehead. Mark pulled on the shirt and got up, giving Fernando a twirl. Fernando smiled happily; Mark really did look great in red. 

“See? This is why you should have come to Ferrari.” Fernando teased. Mark rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t start that again, you know why I didn’t accept that contract.” Mark said. Fernando nodded. 

“I know….” He mumbled sadly. “Is going to be weird without you next year.”

“You’ll survive.” Mark smiled. “And besides, I’d only be in your way when you win the Championship.” Fernando blushed and Mark crossed the room. Mark had deliberately moved away from Fernando waiting for his boyfriend to ask about that one present he took and the beginning of this event. Fernando was still sitting with his legs crossed, but now Mark was gone his eyes had fallen to the little present that was wrapped in plain white paper. Unlike any of the others Mark had wrapped. Fernando was intrigued, but he held his tongue and waited for Mark to offer it to him. He didn’t take his eyes off it as Mark moved around the room doing things he wasn’t aware of. Mark smirked as he saw him. Like a little child really wanting something he had been told to wait for. Mark lingered by the kitchen door. 

“What do you want for breakfast, bub?” Mark asked and Fernando tore his eyes from the present. Fernando’s longing eyes were enough to make Mark laugh. Fernando pouted a little and Mark lent on the wall and folded his arms. “What’s up?” Fernando tried to draw Mark’s attention to the gift with his eyes, but Mark just smiled at him. 

“You know.” Fernando said, showing Mark he knew what he was doing with narrowed eyes and a knowing smile. Mark played innocent as he crossed the room. 

“No I don’t,” he lied. “What’s the matter?”

“We have not finished.” Fernando stated as Mark took his place in front of him again. Mark smiled wirily. 

“Oh, right…” Mark said, picking up the gift. Fernando’s eyes fell to it again. “This.” Fernando looked up at Mark with his change of tone. It became softer. The joke was lost and Mark was looking deeply in his eyes. Fernando frowned a little as Mark placed his free hand on Fernando’s knee. 

“What-?” 

“-You know how special you are to me.” Mark started. Fernando nodded and caught Mark’s face. He couldn’t understand Mark sudden change of tone. It worried him. 

“Yes, and you know how special you are to me.” Fernando said, brushing Mark’s jawline with his finger. Mark smiled softly and placed his hand on top of Fernando’s. 

“Exactly. And what we have is special. And I never want it to end.”

“Mark, I-”

“-Please. Just let me say this.” Mark cut in, giving his hand a little squeeze. Fernando nodded and Mark took his hand off his face, holding it in his own and looking down at it. “We’ve had a rough run in these last few months. But I like to think we go back further than that. Further than when we became what we are now. I’ve known you for twelve years and I really think, even if neither of us knew it them, that we were supposed to end up here. You just had this pull to you that captivated me. And I suppose once that was done that was it. I was always going to be forever yours.” Mark paused to look up at Fernando. The Spaniard had tears pooling in his eyes. Mark wanted to push them away but the nervous knot twisting in his stomach held his hands where they were: one holding Fernando’s hand and the other holding his last gift. 

“It’s important to me that you understand that, but also you have no obligations for me. I want you to be happy, Fernando. Your happiness means more to me than my own and I would hate to think I forced you to do something, ever-” Fernando’s hands desperately found Mark’s face. A single tear rolled down his cheek. 

“-I think these things too. You never force me, Mark, but my happiness needs you. I can’t think of being happy without you. I love you. I love you so much sometimes it hurts when you are not here.” Fernando said. Mark was trying to desperately read what he was thinking; the panic in his eyes was too strong. He let himself smile as he presented Fernando with his final present. 

“I think you need this then,” Mark could feel his own eyes watering as Fernando took the last box from him. The knot in his stomach was a little looser but it was still clear as Fernando let go of him and peeled back the wrapping. The little blue box came into view and Fernando frowned at it. 

“Wha-?” Fernando started. His eyes fell on Mark who was beaming. He didn’t think he had ever seen Mark in this state. 

“Open it.” Mark encouraged, and his loving tone wrapped itself around Fernando. His mind went blank. He couldn’t think what the little box could hold. It was blue. Was the blue relevant? It had a little catch on the front and Fernando opened it, pushing the lid upwards to reveal red velvet. He couldn’t quite take it in. He blinked a few times as he looked at it. The little gold band ring that was sitting innocently in the box. Fernando held the box in two hands as he looked up at Mark. Mark placed his hands on Fernando’s knees. 

“Fernando, over the passed three years I have know I liked you. Maybe not it’s true extent, but I have know. Only recently have I realised it is so much more. I love you more than I believe is possible and I never want to see you come to any harm. I never want to leave you, and if you feel the same, I want to spend the rest of my life proving to you how amazing and special you are. You are my world, Fernando. I couldn’t think of life any other way and at this moment I want to cherish that.” Fernando sat with his mouth slightly open as Mark pulled him up so he was kneeling. Mark knelt in front of him and took one of his hands in both of his own. He gently brushed it with his lips before he smiled up at Fernando with wet eyes. Fernando smiled radiantly as more tears fell onto his face. Mark could feel them rolling down his own but it didn’t matter. 

“Fernando Alonso Díaz, would you do me the greatest honor and marry me?” Mark said. Fernando giggled at the cheesiness before he pushed himself forwards and fell into Mark’s arms. Mark caught him as they fell back onto the floor and Fernando kissed him with so much love. Mark’s hands felt to Fernando’s hair and they pressed their smiles together. Mark held Fernando’s hips and looked up at him. “Can I take that as a yes?” Mark smiled. Fernando breathily laughed.

“Yes, Mark. One hundred times yes,” Fernando smiled. Mark kissed him again and then sat them up, collecting the little box from the floor and pulling the ring out of it. Fernando tried his best to dry his eyes before Mark took his left hand and slid the ring gently onto his finger. Fernando looked at it for a moment before more tears of happiness spilled onto his face and he kissed Mark again. 

Mark left him sitting on the floor and he moved back to Fernando’s pile of presents and collected the bottle of champagne and the two Ferrari flutes. Fernando nodded to Mark and he brought them back over. They sat in front of each other again and as Mark opened the bottle and poured it into the flutes Fernando stroked his ring absent-mindedly. Mark handed him a glass and held his own aloft in preparation for a toast. Fernando did the same. 

“To you,” Fernando said and Mark shook his head slightly, his normal smile pulling through onto his face. 

“No. To us.” Mark smiled and they clinked their glasses together. Fernando took a mouthful with the feeling that everything had fallen into place. The right place. And there was no way he could wipe the smile off his face.


	31. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Family means no one is left behind or forgotten”  
> ~David Ogden Stiers~

Fernando felt light-headed. And he was laughing. A lot. God knows why he was laughing. But he was. And he couldn’t stop. Lying on his back looking up at the ceiling, whatever it was that had started him laughing must have been very amusing. He blamed Mark. For some reason. Some reason he couldn’t call on. A fresh wave of laughs flooded through him. His sides began to ache due to laughing so much. His face felt hot and flushed. He couldn’t focus. So he laughed again. So much laughing.

Mark lent over him with a big grin on his face. Fernando laughed up at him, grabbing onto the front of his hoodie and pulled him down to meet their lips. Briefly. Because Fernando was laughing again. And Mark sighed, smiling down at his fiancée.

“Are you quite alright there, mate?” Mark smiled. Fernando nodded his head, forgetting about the heaviness it weirdly now held and he rolled it to the side before looking back up at Mark. Laughing again. Feeling very disorientated. “You sure about that?” Fernando shook his head, still laughing, ‘oohing’ at the weird heavy-head disorientation it gave him. Mark laughed at him and pulled him back up to a sitting position. Fernando’s eyes fell on the opened bottle of champagne and the two flutes, one empty one half full. He reached for the bottle. “No.” Mark said, putting his wrist back in his lap. Fernando pouted at him. “I think you’ve had enough of that for the moment.”

“Have not had much.” Fernando protested, trying not to laugh at Mark. He was acting like a two year old. Mark sighed. 

“Exactly, and look what I’ve got to deal with now.” Mark teased. “You’ve only had two glasses.”

“But I did drink them very very very very very very very…” Fernando kept repeating the word ‘very’ as he slowly fell to the left. Mark caught him just before he tumbled to the carpet and straightened him up. Fernando started talking through a fresh wave of laughter. “Very very quickly.” He concluded, looking over at Mark sheepishly. Mark kept a hold on his arms to prevent him from tipping again. 

“I never knew you did this when you got drunk.” Mark teased, causing Fernando to pout again.

“Am not drunk… Just a really tiny little bit tipsy.” Fernando said, closing one eye and bringing his hand in front of his face with his finger and thumb a miniscule distance apart. Mark smiled at him.

“Whatever you say.” He said, moving Fernando’s hand away from his face and kissing the tip of his nose. Fernando giggled stupidly at Mark’s touch. Mark sat back and sighed. “Come on, let’s get some food and water in you to sober you up.” Mark said, standing and helping Fernando to his feet. 

“Am fine really.” Fernando commented, gripping to Mark’s arm as the room began to sway slightly. Mark looked at him dubiously. 

“Then you can let go of my arm and walk out of your own.” Mark teased. Fernando straightened himself up and let go of Mark. He turned his head from Mark as he took a step forwards, disorientating himself and tumbling to the right. Mark caught him around the waist and set him back on his feet. 

“Maybe not…” Fernando blushed, gripping Mark tighter. Mark’s warm laughter filled his ear as he took them both through to the kitchen. He sat Fernando at the table and placed a glass of water in front of him as he set about making some breakfast. Fernando drank four long mouthfuls before he set the half full glass back on the table and watched Mark, subconsciously fiddling with the ring on his left hand as he did.

\- - - 

The day seemed to speed on, with the phone ringing every other minute with people who demanded to be spoken to. Fernando had decided to help, after eating his breakfast he was back to his usual sober self, and made lunch whilst Mark had a very long phone call with his parents. From what Fernando could tell from the bit of conversation he heard when he brought Mark a sandwich and sat on his desk, eating his own, and listening to them, Alan was making a lot of embarrassing jokes and Diane wanted to know exactly what had happened. Mark spun in his desk chair and rolled his eyes at Fernando, who smirked, as his Mum asked him to go through the proposal once more. 

They hadn’t really stopped doing things until that evening, after dinner, when Fernando had pulled out the videos Leanne had sent Mark for Christmas with big, pleading eyes. Mark just smirked at him as he wrapped his arms around his fiancée’s waist. 

“You really can’t think of anything better to do than sit and watch videos of me from when I was younger?” Mark sighed. Fernando shook his head. 

“Nope. Is the only thing I can think is worth doing.” Fernando said, smiling up at Mark. Mark pushed a hand in his hair and kissed him gently, relenting. 

“Fine. But bring that wine.” Mark said, taking the videos through to the room with the tree in it and pointing to the bottle of red that was sitting on the side from Fernando’s parents. Fernando rolled his eyes as he collected the bottle and two tulip glasses. 

“Am thinking you only want to get me drunk.” Fernando noted, setting the glasses down on the side table next to the end of the sofa Mark would sit at. Mark sent him a cheeky look from his crouched position by the television. 

“You were very funny earlier.” Mark purred, moving over to Fernando and sitting on the sofa. Fernando curled under his arms as soon as he had settled, wrapping his arms around his waist. Mark placed a kiss on the top of his head. 

“Was not.” Fernando said with a blush. Mark sat up briefly to pour them each a glass of wine before relaxing back down with Fernando. He turned on the video to see himself explaining to whoever was filming about the parts of a Go-Kart. “Aww! Look how young you are!” Fernando beamed at the screen, sitting up, and Mark blushed deeply. “How old?”

“About fourteen? That’s when I started karting.” Mark smiled, handing Fernando his glass of wine. Fernando looked at it sceptically. “I haven’t laced it with poison.” Mark laughed. Fernando shot him a pathetic look. “Just drink it slow. It’s nice.” Mark brought his own glass to his lips, challenging Fernando to do the same. He shot his fiancée a toothy grin when a little of the red liquid poured slowly into Fernando’s mouth. Fernando swallowed. “Nice?”

“Not bad.” Fernando sighed, placing his glass back beside Mark and snuggling onto his chest as he watched the video. Mark echoed his movement with his glass and subconsciously draped his arm round Fernando’s shoulder and brought him closer, looking over to the television. 

“So why don’t you hop in and show me how this thing works?” Alan’s voice sounded from off the screen, showing it was Mark’s Dad who was filming him. On-screen mini-Mark folded his arms. 

“I can’t just ‘hop in’” the small version of Mark said, using his fingers to make quotation marks around the words ‘hop in’. “I have to wait for the race.”

“Right.” Alan replied, moving closer to the kart, and therefore his son. Mark seemed almost serene on camera at such a young age. Fernando opened his mouth to say something, but Mark’s young voice stops him. 

“You wait. One of these day you won’t have to do the videoing.” Young Mark said nonchalantly. The camera that was focused on the Go-Kart turned so Mark was centre of the frame.

“That so?” Alan’s voice asked. Mark looked at his dad above the camera and Fernando recognised the spark in his eyes that he got before Formula One races. It made Fernando almost lean into hear his words.

“Yup. Because I’m going to make it. I’m going to get into Formula One.”

“Sound pretty confident.”

“Because it’s going to happen.” Young Mark smiled. Mark watched his young self and the determination he had held at that young age. The determination he hoped he still had bottled up in his body somewhere. He felt Fernando pull closer to him and a smile pulled at his lips. The camera crouched as Alan did and suddenly Mark was towering in the frame, looking powerful. 

“Mark, Formula One is a big challenge. It’s not easy.” Alan’s parental voice broke across the room. 

“I don’t want easy. If it’s not easy it will be a better feeling when I achieve it. Lots of hard work and sweat. I’ll feel like I deserve it. And then I’ll be like Prost.”

“Just keep boxing, Son,” Alan said, even though he was not seen his smile could be heard in his voice. 

“I’m going to do it, Dad. I’m going to be World Champion.” With young Mark’s words still ringing in their ears the shot changed to watching the Go-Kart go round and round, obviously Mark. Fernando clutched Mark’s t-shirt soothingly and Mark returned his gesture with a small kiss on his forehead. The video went on, Mark’s driving career interrupted by birthdays and parties and a few holidays. But most of the video was of Mark driving, or standing in a garage talking with an engineer. Fernando could barely seem to watch anyone else but him. It was odd to see the man whose arms he was wrapped in grown up in front of his eyes. Watch his driving style emerge and see him perfect tracks; constantly get better. Mark got up and changed to the next video. About half and hour later, when the video was showing Mark at Minardi, Mark noted the quietness of his fiancée…

He would never get tired of calling him that, Mark thought as he smiled to himself. Fiancée. Fiancée. Fiancée. 

He shook his head, bringing himself back to the moment he was in and looked down at Fernando. The Spaniard was frowning at the ring on his left hand. Mark emulated that frown. He paused the video. Fernando looked back up at the television as the sound stopped and then his eyes fell on Mark. His frown deepened, which didn’t make Mark any calmer. 

“What’s wrong?” Mark asked, a hint of panic in his voice. Fernando sat up. 

“Think you need to tell me first.” Fernando said, eyeing Mark in a confused manner. He cupped Mark’s face with his hand. “Why are you frowning?”

“Why are you frowning?” Mark echoed. Fernando blinked. 

“Me?”

“Yes, Fer, you. You were looking at your hand and frowning.” Mark said, his voice threatening to break. When Fernando laughed and crashed their lips together, though, Mark quickly forgot that there was anything the matter. He laid back into the sofa and brought Fernando down with him, arms travelling his back and weaving into his hair. Fernando sat back, slightly breathlessly. 

“Are funny.” Fernando smiled. Mark sighed, relieved. 

“I take it everything is fine then?” Mark asked, all ready knowing the answer. Fernando kissed him briefly. 

“Yes. Everything is fine.” Fernando brought his left hand in front of Mark’s face, displaying the gold band set in spaced fingers. “You put it on the left.” Fernando commented. Mark looked up at him like he’d missed something. 

“Isn’t that where it’s supposed to go?” Mark said cautiously. Fernando smiled again, curling into Mark’s embrace and holding his arm in the air so they both looked up at it. Fernando shrugged. 

“I thought it was the right for us…” Fernando said softly. Mark frowned up at the ring. 

“Us?”

“Homosexuals.”

“You can just say gay.”

“Do not like this term…” Fernando said, looking over at Mark. Mark’s eyes met his. “Too many people use it wrong.” Mark kissed the tip of Fernando’s nose in agreement.

“Who said it should go on the right?” Mark asked, pulling Fernando closer. Fernando let his outstretched arm fall softly onto Mark. 

“I read on the internet.”

“You looked it up?” Mark asked, looking down at Fernando. Fernando shrugged. 

“Was curious.” It filled Mark with a warm buzz that Fernando had been thinking about marriage as well. It just made him feel like Fernando and he were so in tuned with each other. It felt perfect. Mark adjusted them so they were more comfortable before he played the video again and tucked the arm that wasn’t holding Fernando’s waist under his head. 

“Put it on whatever finger you want, mate. It just matters to me you said yes.” Mark sighed settling back into the video. Fernando looked up at him before looking back to the ring. He lent over Mark to grab the remote and pause the television. Mark looked away from the now still video of him testing for Minardi and back to Fernando. 

“You put it on the left.” Fernando repeated from earlier, pointing to his ring. Mark just looked at him. “Why?”

“I thought that was where it went.” Mark shrugged, his fingers absent-mindedly playing with the hair at the nape of Fernando’s neck. “I didn’t realise there was a different rule for us… Put it where you want, I don’t care.” Mark lied because he did care. Why did they have to conceive to the rules? Why was it different for them because they were gay? What did that matter? They were in love and wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. That’s what mattered. Not the position of a fucking ring. Mark put it on that finger because that was the wedding ring finger. Sod what other people thought. Fernando looked at him in a concerned manner.

“Is British tradition on the left?”

“It’s just where I thought it went. Like I said, put it where you want.” Mark said in a clipped voice. There was a small pause.

“You are angry.”

“I’m not angry, Fer, I just don’t see what difference it makes.”

“In Spain we wear on the right.”

“Then put it on the right.” Mark exasperated. This was stupid; it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter at all. What mattered was that Fernando had said yes. So why was this bothering him so much? 

“Do not want to.”

“Why are we even having this discussion then?” Mark asked in an impatient tone. Fernando shrunk into himself a little. 

“Was odd. I expected it on the right. Did not understand.” Fernando sighed. Mark pulled him closer and brought both of Fernando’s hands into his own. He slid the ring gently from Fernando’s left hand and onto his right, brushing his lips gently against it. Fernando watched him curiously. 

“It doesn’t matter to me, Fernando. If you wear it on the right hand in Spain then you can wear it on the right.” Mark’s annoyance had evaded on the realisation of it being a Spanish tradition and not just some stupid rule Fernando had read on the Internet. “It only went on your left because that’s where I was told it was put. In Australia we put it there and also in England. I don’t care. Staple it to your head if you want. I just need you.” Fernando smiled at Mark before pulling the gold band off his finger and handing it back to Mark. Mark frowned until Fernando sat up and held out his left hand. 

“You put it here. This is where I want it.” Fernando said, wiggling his left-hand fingers slightly. Mark laughed breathily at him as he sat up. 

“It really doesn’t matter.”

“You put it here.” Fernando said again, looking up from his hand and into Mark’s eyes. 

“You can put it on yourself you know.” Mark smiled as he slid the ring back onto Fernando’s left hand. He was happy Fernando was asking him to do it though; he loved what it meant, the significance of the simple band of gold. 

“Is your job. When we get yours I put it on you.” Fernando smiled, placing his left hand on Mark’s face. Looking at the picture he had created: the man he loved and their promise. The gold brought out the shine in Mark’s eyes. “We exchange.” Mark’s hands rested happily on Fernando’s hips. 

“I love you.” He sighed, smiling happily at Fernando. 

“Even when I make you have crazy, pointless conversations with me?” Fernando joked, blushing a little. Mark lent closer to him. 

“Especially then.” Mark said, grazing their lips together. Fernando’s arms wrapped around Mark’s neck to bring him closer and Mark smiled at the way Fernando couldn’t resist him at such close proximity. 

“Te amo.” Fernando sighed, kissing Mark’s cheek as they curled back into the sofa. Fernando was no longer very interested in the video. He wanted to watch it, yes, but the way Mark was drawing patterns all over his body, lifting the hem of his shirt so his fingers could explore the sensitive skin on his back… It was distracting. And Mark knew exactly what he was doing. He smirked as Fernando pushed his body closer to Mark’s letting out a small subconscious hum of contentment. Mark kept his eyes on the television. Fernando’s eyes felt heavy and sleepy and he could think of nothing better than to curl up in Mark’s arms and fall asleep. He forced his eyes back open, not realising they had closed, and looked at the screen. The image of a twenty-seven-year-old Mark in a green racing suit was pleasantly received in his mind. On-screen Mark was leaning against the edge of his car with his arms folded and looking at something that couldn’t be seen. Whoever was filming turned the camera and caught a few seconds of what Mark was looking at. Two guys were talking. One in a white suit and one in blue. Fernando recognised himself immediately and sat up, suddenly very awake. Mark laughed at him. 

“Is me?” Fernando asked, confused.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t think you were going to show up somewhere.” Mark smiled, his hand resting on Fernando’s hip. Fernando looked at Mark fleetingly before he looked back at the screen. The camera had zoomed in on him and who could clearly be seen as Kimi now. 

“Why am I on your video?”

“Don’t know. Dad was filming. I didn’t ask him to. Didn’t know this was on here… I just assumed you would be somewhere because he was always following me with that camera.”

“But now you have all these memories.” Fernando said, turning away from the younger version of himself briefly to look at Mark. Mark smiled at him.

“I know. That’s why I never stopped him.”

“Whose that then, Mark?” Alan’s voice called from the television, pulling Fernando’s attention back. Mark’s throat suddenly felt dry as the real memory of this moment flooded back into his head. He picked up the remote as Alan was zooming out and turning the camera back to Mark. 

“We don’t want to watch all of this… Most of it’s just boring…” Mark mused, searching for the fast forward button. Just as his eyes found it Fernando pulled the remote from his grip. 

“Want to.” Fernando said cockily, holding the remote from Mark’s reach. Mark swallowed as he lent over to take it from Fernando. Fernando moved it further away, a smirk pulling at his lips. 

“It’s really boring.” Mark said a little too desperately. Fernando paused the video. 

“But you really do not want me to see it, so now I have to.”

“Fernando, just-”

“-Shh.” Fernando said, putting his finger to his lips as he pressed play. Mark looked down at his feet. Fernando watched as on-screen Mark abruptly turned back to the camera and pushed himself off the car, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. 

“Erm… Just one-some of the other drivers…” Mark said from the television. The twenty-seven-year-old Mark blushed slightly. “Some of the other drivers.”

“So whose the one in blue?” Alan smiled. Mark shot him a dark look as he moved around the garage to look at some data. The camera and Alan followed him. “Uh-oh… Someone’s embarrassed.” Alan teased. The mechanic that was standing nearby smiled at Alan’s comment as he was briefly in the shot. Mark turned on his Dad. 

“I am not embarrassed.”

“Then who is it?” Mark sighed as he turned his back and accepted some data from his race engineer. 

“One of the Renault drivers.” Mark shrugged. Fernando looked over at his Mark momentarily taking in the way his cheeks were flushed and he was defiantly not looking at him before turning back to the screen. 

“Whose name is…?” Alan prompted. 

“I’m not sure.” Mark shot, not turning from his data. Alan sighed. 

“Now what’s he going to think when he sees that, hey? Not a very good friend if you can’t remember his name.”

“He’s never going to see this so what does that matter?”

“Never say never, Mark.” Alan teased and finally Mark turned back round to look at him.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Tell me about your friend. Your new Spanish friend.” There was a pause where Mark just looked at Alan in a bored manner. 

“He’s hard to understand.” Both Fernando and Alan laughed at that comment, their laughter running parallel in the room. Fernando pulled his Mark closer to him and made him look up.

“You worry about nothing. Is not bad, just funny.” Fernando smiled, caressing Mark’s cheek. Mark gave a small smile back as Fernando turned back to the screen, glad Fernando apparently couldn’t see the awkwardness Mark had felt ten years ago - around the time he had known Fernando was going to end up being special to him.

“You seemed to be communicating fine earlier.” Alan teased again from the television. The Mark on the screen blushed. 

“Dad…” Mark sighed as he noted his mechanics were getting their entertainment at his expense.

“Alright, alright.” Alan said as Mark turned back to his data. Alan moved the camera so Mark’s concentrated expression could be seen. He looked into the camera lens, looking out at the viewers of the video. 

“Mark, if you ever get your hands on this burn it.” The on-screen Mark called to his future self. Mark wrapped his arms around Fernando as he relented to watching.

“His name is?” Alan prodded again. This gained him another dark look from the young Australian. 

“Why do you care so much?”

“What if your kids are watching? How will they know?”

“I’ll tell them if I haven’t already burnt this…” Mark tried again, in vain, to return to his data. 

“You know if you tell me I’ll go away.” Mark looked over at his Dad before sighing deeply and putting his pencil down. He ran a hand across his cheek and stopped himself pushing it into his hair by turning it into scratching his neck. Fernando smiled at the nervousness of the young version of Mark. The side of Mark he didn’t know about at the time. 

“Alonso.” Mark said, picking up his pencil and going back to his data, not inviting any more questions. 

“Not on first name basis yet, son?” Alan teased. 

“I do need to go through this.” Mark shot back.

“Not until tomorrow.” His race engineer grinned from the background. Mark sighed.

“First name?” Alan asked as Mark shot him another dark look. He relented quickly, bored of all of the teasing.

“Fernando.” Mark said with a warm hint to his voice. Fernando felt a warm sensation buzz through him as Mark said his name. Something he had heard so many times before but somehow this was different. It was as if Mark was sharing a secret.

“Fernando… Tell me about him.” Alan asked softly. Fernando sat forwards as young Mark put his pencil down and turned so he was leaning against the table he was working on. Alan moved to get him entirely in the shot and Mark’s eyes had fallen back over to Fernando (who could not be seen). “Mark.”

“He’s fast… In his car. I don’t know, maybe he’s just got a fast car.” Mark shrugged, tearing his eyes back to his Dad. “He’s younger than me, which is weird because I feel like he should be asking me for advice rather than the other way round. But he’s been in the sport longer, just a year… I don’t know… He’s funny? What else do you want me to say?” 

“Is he pretty good?” Alan asked. Mark shrugged.

“I don’t know… I’d say it’s too soon to say. But I don’t really know what I’m talking about…”

“Mark, you’ve been watching the sport since you were a little kid. I think you need to give yourself some more knowledge credit than that.” Alan said. Mark’s eyes fell briefly in the direction of Fernando before they were pulled back. 

“He’s fast. And good in the wet. I’d say he could be great… Big ego though…”

“What does that matter?” Mark shrugged again.

“He could be great if he doesn’t let that corrupt him.” Mark muttered. Fernando felt Mark squeeze his hips reassuringly and push a kiss into his neck. He smiled at Mark’s attempt at reassurance. Fernando didn’t need it; in his opinion Mark had got him all worked out. 

“Doesn’t seem very cocky and arrogant when you’re with him…” Alan mused. Mark – on screen – blushed.

“Maybe I put his feet back on the ground…” Mark muttered, his voice getting increasingly smaller and his eyes raking the floor.

“Maybe…” Alan said in an omniscient voice. The visual suddenly cut to a distant shot that was slowly zooming in. Mark and Fernando were talking animatedly. It was race day. Fernando could tell from the rain pouring around them as they stood under umbrellas on the grid. Fernando noted just how Mark’s eyes seemed to have lit up talking to him all those years ago. But maybe he was making that up. Maybe he just wanted to see something rooted this far back in Mark so his brain has put it there. 

“When is this?” Fernando asked, turning away from the screen to look at Mark. 

“2003.” Mark replied, sitting back in the chair and pulling Fernando with him. 

“What race? Do you remember?” Mark nodded and swallowed dryly before giving his answer.

“Brazil.” Mark said in a soft voice. Fernando turned back to the television. The events of Brazil in 2003 still stung a bit and his memory was a little fogged. It had been going well until he hit Mark’s strewn tyre. The impact. The darkness. The desperation. The need to get out the car so his family and friends knew he was all right. And that first thought he had as the medics rushed over to him. He had slid to the floor, the pain in his leg a little too much. And he felt dizzy, horribly so. But his first thought wasn’t of friends or family. It was of Mark. The first person he had wanted to see was Mark. Because Mark could always make him laugh and he wanted Mark to be the one to make the situation better. As so the conversation Fernando was watching now was Mark and his last before that accident. And as he watched himself pull Mark into a hug he knew what he had just said, the words echoing around his head. 

This weather is unpredictable. Be careful. See you after.

Innocent words from a friend, advice and a promise. In hindsight of the event they seemed to be so much more significant. The small smile that danced on his younger self’s lips as he moved away from Mark. The joke Mark had called in response as Fernando walked away, forever lost in the downpour. Fernando was done with the video now. He turned to Mark and straddled his waist. His hands found Mark’s face easily and Mark’s hands found his hips. 

“You remember-?”

“-Of course: your ironic words. I swear if you hadn’t have said anything…” Mark smiled as Fernando gave a little laugh, wrapping his arms around Mark’s neck. Mark muted the television behind Fernando with a quick button-press and then reverted his attention back to Fernando. 

“I wanted you to come… When I got out the car…” Fernando said softly, playing with Mark’s hair. Mark relaxed, closing his eyes.

“I wanted to.” Mark sighed. One eye cracked open to look at Fernando, whose hands had stopped moving. “They told me I had to get a check up myself. I felt bad. I blamed myself.”

“Was not your fault.” Fernando said, leaning closer to Mark.

“If I hadn’t have crashed my car, my tyre wouldn’t have been in the middle of the track for you to hit…”

“Mark…” Fernando breathed as he rested his forehead on Mark’s and pushed a hand across his cheek. Mark looked into Fernando’s eyes. “You scared me in Valencia…”

“You scared me in Spa.” Mark said, pulling Fernando’s body closer. 

“Was not my fault.”

“Valencia wasn’t mine… Steer clear of Lotus’. That seems to be the safest bet.” Mark smiled as Fernando nuzzled close to him. “Are you OK?”

“Do not want to loose you, Mark.” Fernando said. “Not like that.”

“I’m not going anywhere. We’re staying right here, together, until we’re old and grey and complaining we can’t get up.”

“Will always help you get up.” Fernando sighed, placing a soft kiss on Mark’s cheek. 

“I’m relying on it. You’ll go out on that bike every morning until the day you die.” Mark smiled, threading his fingers into Fernando’s hair. Fernando pushed into his touch. 

“Until we are old and grey.” Fernando repeated. “Promise?” Mark pushed their lips together and pulled Fernando closer to him. The delicateness of Mark’s touch made Fernando mould to his fiancée, never wanting to let go. Mark pulled up and kissed his forehead gently.

“I promise.” Mark said and Fernando clung to him tighter. Mark shut off the television. They could watch the rest some other time. “I thought of something more fun we could do…” Mark said in a velvet tone making Fernando shudder pleasantly. 

“Yes?” Fernando smiled, looking up at Mark. 

“Something we can’t do when we’re old and grey.”

“We could try.”

“Yeah, but I don’t like the idea of a false hip.” Mark commented, making Fernando laugh as he brought their lips together. Hands sought out skin and all thoughts of worries or reminiscing the past vanished from both of their heads. Fernando sat up quickly as Mark nipped at his neck and took hold of both of their glasses of wine. He handed Mark his and raised it slightly. 

“To us and our engagement and all of the happy years that are to come.” Fernando smiled and Mark clinked their glasses together with a smile. “My father would kill me if he knew what we were toasting his wine to.” Fernando laughed as he drained the glass of its contents.

“You really don’t get the whole drink it for its taste thing, do you?” Mark teased as he followed Fernando’s suit and ridded his glass of wine. Fernando smiled.

“Before this year had only drunk alcohol properly twice in my life.” Fernando commented, wrapping his arms around Mark’s neck and his legs around Mark’s waist. Mark gave a victorious smirk. 

“Told you I would corrupt you.” Mark muttered in Fernando’s ear, making the Spaniard’s breath catch. 

“My father is not going to like you.” Fernando said, leaning closer to Mark’s body. Mark couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, but before he could ask Fernando latched his lips onto the skin of Mark’s neck. A needy moan escaped his lips before he could stop it and in revenge he smirked as he lifted Fernando from the sofa and carried him up to the bedroom. Corrupted in more ways that one. Mark thought as he smirked and dropped Fernando on the bed, crawling on top of his body, eyes dark with lust. He looked down into his fiancée’s eyes briefly before smiling and crashing their lips passionately together.

Yeah, your father’s going to hate me.

\- - - - -

“Fernando, please calm down. This is ridiculous. They’re just your parents.” Mark said, trying to sooth Fernando who was hyperventilating in the seat next to him. The aeroplane was filling up fast and he really didn’t want anyone to recognise them, not with Fernando in this state. He had offered to take a private jet but Fernando didn’t want to. So here they sat, together, in first class. Fernando was spinning his engagement ring, that was currently attached to a chain around his neck, around one of his fingers nervously. Mark still had his gold band on his finger (they had gone and got it on Boxing Day, creating a small little ceremony where Fernando put it on his left finger and claimed they were now properly engaged). His empty chain hung around his neck waiting for it, but seeing that he had had his one day less than Fernando he wasn’t prepared to take it off yet. And he didn’t need to right now. However, Fernando was panicking about his parents. 

“Papa knows, Mark. He’s going to make snide comments.” Fernando said, his eyes wide and staring. Checking no one was watching, Mark took Fernando’s free hand and held it in his own. Fernando pressed his ring on it’s chain to his lips momentarily.

“Let him make all the comments he wants. I’m a big boy, I’ve been dealing with it for three years.”

“Yes, but-”

“-Fernando, all you need to know is that nothing he can say will make me leave you. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” Mark touched Fernando’s ring and the Spaniard finally looked over at him. “Until we’re old and grey.” Fernando smiled at Mark and relaxed back into his chair. This was going to be OK. Everything was going to be fine. Three days. Not even that. One afternoon, one full day and one morning. That’s all he had to get through. 

And really, how much drama could fifty-two hours produce?

\- - -

Lorena opened the door to Mark and Fernando and the smile Fernando had plastered on his face nearly slid to the floor. Lorena could read him like an open book. Not good. Not good. Lorena was going to find out. Shit. Fuck. Lorena probably all ready knew. Why did she have to be here? Why did she have to open the door? Why was she looking at Mark in a flirtatious way? Oh, so wrong. No. No. Lorena looked like she was about to flirt with her future brother-in-law.

And Fernando wasn’t wrong.

“Nano! Has been too long.” Lorena smiled, throwing her arms around her brother’s neck. Fernando gave a nervous laugh as he hugged her back. When she let him go her eyes settled on Mark. “And this is your friend you brought to play.” Lorena giggled as she fluttered her eyelashes. She held out her hand to Mark. Fernando watched their exchange nervously. “Am Lorena. Am almost certain he will not have mentioned me.” She smiled as Mark took her hand. She pulled him closer to him and placed a kiss on each cheek.

“He has actually. Doting older sister I’ve heard.” Mark joked, making Fernando blush. “I’m-”

“-Am very aware of who you are… Mark.” Lorena said in a velvet tone. Jealousy shot through Fernando as a small frown set on his face. 

“Is not here to play, Lorena.” Fernando shot, pulling her attention back to him. 

“Am teasing, Nano.” She smiled as she moved into the house and took Mark’s bag from the floor. Her eyes fell on the bottom of Fernando’s legs, bare to just below his knees where his shorts interrupted. “See you have been using the waxing kit I gave you.” She said, straitening up. Fernando blushed a little. 

“Do not wax my legs.” He muttered. 

“Glad I’m not the only one who noticed how little hair he has on him.” Mark said as he crossed the threshold. Both Lorena and Fernando looked over at him: Lorena confused and Fernando desperate. “Err… I mean, that’s a question the whole paddock wants an answer to… you know, shaved or natural…” Mark said nervously. Lorena just laughed at him as she moved into the house, taking Mark’s bag with her. Fernando turned to Mark and dropped his voice. 

“You need to be careful.” Fernando said in a frantic tone. Mark sighed as he pulled Fernando close to his body. Fernando clung to him, feeling suddenly safe. Mark tilted his chin up and looked into his eyes. 

“You need to calm down. Everything is going to be fine. If you act all nervous and tense they’ll know something is up.” Mark said, placing a soft kiss on Fernando’s lips. “OK?” Fernando nodded and Mark reached out for his hand before remembering he couldn’t do that here. Instead, he settled for following Fernando through the house.

“The boys are here.” Lorena called to her parents in Spanish as she ascended the stairs with Mark’s bag. Mark looked to Fernando for translation but Fernando didn’t provide it. “In the front room, Nano. Papa wants you to go straight through.” Mark, again, waited for Fernando to translate what Lorena had said but instead he watched his fiancée’s posture deflate. Fernando led Mark through to the kitchen where he dropped his bag.

“Get yourself a drink, I’ll go and find my parents.” Fernando said, placing a chaste kiss on Mark’s cheek. Mark nodded and Fernando left the kitchen, happy that Mark had not yet attempted to learn his native language. Fernando crossed the hall and walked into the large front room that overlooked the beach set down the hill the house sat on. His mum rushed over and pulled him into a hug, kissing both of his cheeks fondly, but his father hung back, just rising from his seat. As Ana, Fernando’s mum, let her son go Fernando turned to face his father. The first time they had seen each other since Fernando had revealed his relationship with Mark. Fernando resisted the temptation to fold his arms. 

“Where is your friend?” José asked in Spanish. Fernando held his eye contact. 

“I would like you to meet him.” Fernando replied in Spanish. José folded his arms. 

“Is why you brought him here, no?” Ana asked happily to her son also in their native language. Fernando looked from his mother to his father, realisation that only he father knew about Mark and him pudding in his brain. Fernando smiled at his mother and then looked back to his father. 

“He’s in the kitchen.” Fernando challenged. José sat back down. 

“We are in here.” José reflected his son’s challenge. Ana pulled him back onto his feet by his arm.

“You are not that old, come on. Your son wants to introduce his friend. We will not be rude.” Ana chuckled, completely missing the tension between her husband and son. Fernando led them through to Mark in the kitchen and introduced them in English. 

“Mark, this is my mother, Ana, and my father, José. Mama, Papa, this is Mark Webber.” Fernando orchestrated the greetings with his arms and smiled at his mother’s fondness. Even Mark picked up on the coldness that emulated from José when he shook his hand. 

“It’s nice to meet you both. And thank you, José, for letting me stay in your house.” Mark smiled, looking José straight in the eye. Ana baffled about how it was no trouble as José just stared at him with a small, false smile, resisting the urge to make Mark address him as Mr Alonso. Ana would just intercept anyway and then rebuke him later for being rude to Fernando’s friend. Friend. The word burned through José as he forced himself to not grind his teeth. He could feel Fernando watching him from beside Mark. He didn’t care. He sent a truthful look of disgust to his son before rearranging them into a happy appeal and hooking an arm around Ana’s waist. 

“Now, Mark,” José started cheerily. Fernando watched him sceptically. “Lorena took your stuff up to the spare room and that is where you can sleep whilst you are here. Is a little small but it will be fine.” 

“Is no trouble, Papa. Do not mind if Mark stays in my ro-”

“-No, Fernando.” There was a hint of sternness in his voice which disappeared as he continued. “Have set up the spare room for Mark. Your room cannot accommodate for two. Is what your mother and I decided was best.”

“Mark, let me show you around.” Ana smiled, moving from her husband’s hold and linking her arm through Mark’s. Mark didn’t get a chance to say anything as Ana began to tow him out of the room, explaining about the house and leaving Fernando and José in the kitchen alone. As soon as they had disappeared Fernando turned on his father, his words switching easily to Spanish. 

“Why can he not stay with me?” Fernando shot accusingly. José held his ground, staring his son down, also speaking in Spanish. 

“I will not have you two… together under my roof. This is my house, Fernando. My rules. These next few days are going to be trouble-free and stress less. No one is going to tell your mother about whatever you think is happening between you two and none of it is to happen whilst you are here. Do I make myself clear?”

“What I think is happening between us?” Fernando said in a disbelieving tone.

“I do not know what he has said to you but it is all false. You are not like him, Fernando. You are like me and you are going to find a wife and have kids and do the honourable thing for this family! Not play around with your… Friend.” 

“You do not know anything about me. You do not understand! I am not a kid anymore – you cannot tell me what to do!” Fernando seethed, heading out of the room. His Dad caught his arms and stopped him, glaring at him. Fernando matched that glare.

“I am your father and you will respect me.” José started dangerously, his grip on Fernando’s arm tightening. “You will stay in separate rooms and nothing more is to happen between you. I forbid it.”

“You forbid it?” Fernando spat through gritted teeth.

“Yes. I do not want you to make this mistake, Fernando,” José’s tone softened slightly but it just made Fernando grit his teeth harder. “I want what is best for you and he is not.” Fernando ripped his arm from his father’s grip.

“You do not know anything about me or what is best for me. He is what is best for me and we are-” Fernando stopped himself speaking. His hands were balled into fists and he could feel the anger pulsating through his body. But however angry he was, this was not the time to tell his father Mark and he were getting married. The chain with his ring on it, tucked safely under his shirt, felt heavy against his skin. The temptation burned in him as his father glared at him expectantly. 

“Yes?” José shot, glaring intensely at his son and folding his arms. Fernando shook his head.

“You would not understand.” Fernando narrowed his eyes at his father before striding from the room. He didn’t know where he was heading; he just knew he wanted out of the room with his father. Those words still haunting him with every step. Trouble-free and stress less. It would be if his Dad got off his back. I do not want you to make this mistake. It wasn’t a mistake. Fernando knew that. He hated the way his father was making him doubt himself, even if just a little. I forbid it. Fernando’s hands tightened as he came to a stop. He had walked about six foot from the kitchen in the direction of the stairs. But they way his father thought he could just tell Fernando to turn off his feelings for Mark. He wanted to go back and tell him what he really thought, what was really going on. Watch the realisation tumble across his face and love it, soak it in when his father finally realises there is nothing he can do to separate him from Mark. He turned back towards the kitchen. 

“Fernando.” A soft female voice called from behind him. He turned back towards the stairs; surprised he hadn’t seen her the first time. Lorena was sitting looking down at him through the rails of the banister, gripping them tightly with her hands. Fernando tried to raise a smile for her, but he expression muted his efforts. It was suddenly very clear that Lorena had heard the full conversation between his father and him. The whole Spanish conversation that anyone in this house – bar Mark – would have no trouble listening to. Fernando watched his sister, waiting for her to say something else. She didn’t.

“What is it, Lorena?” Fernando asked softly in Spanish. Lorena’s eyes flicked to the kitchen before they fell back onto her brother. She walked down the rest of the stairs and stood in front of Fernando, looking deeply into his eyes. He couldn’t help but swallow nervously. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.” Lorena muttered back in Spanish. Her arms folded but she didn’t look angry. Just confused. 

“How much did you hear?” Fernando repeated again with a little more force. Lorena sighed as she looked at the floor. 

“I saw Mama and Mark come out of the kitchen and was going to go with them, you know so I could embarrass you in front of your… Friend, like all older sisters should do, and then I heard Papa and you still talking… And I got curious and…” Lorena’s voice faded off. Fernando knew she had heard everything. The questions, the restrictions, the accusations. Fernando swallowed dryly as he dragged Lorena through to the garden. As the warm breeze and the hum of crickets hit them Fernando saw Mark and his mother halfway down the hill looking out at the beach. He turned his back to them, focusing on Lorena. 

“So ask me. Ask me what you want to know.” Fernando said softly, his Spanish words making Lorena feel like they were children again, sharing secrets. But maybe this was a secret she didn’t want to be part of. She looked into her brother’s eyes before her eyes caught the few links of gold that were visible and appearing from under his shirt around his neck. She frowned at it. Fernando never wore necklaces. Before she could stop herself her fingers had wrapped around the chain and untucked it. Fernando’s eyes flashed with panic and he tried to stop her, but as his fingers caught her wrist the ring felt into her palm. Lorena gasped. “Lorena, I-”

“-Your… Mark and… I don’t…” Lorena’s eyes met Fernando’s as she took what she wanted from the evidence in front of her. 

“Lorena-”

“-Mark is not your friend is he.” Lorena said, her voice wavering on cracking. She watched as Fernando confidently shook his head.

“He is more… A lot more.” Fernando sighed, holding his sister’s eyes. She looked down at the ring in her hand. 

“And this… This is your more… You are…” Lorena swallowed, words leaving her in a situation she could never dream of herself being in. She shuffled back slightly and the ring fell from her hand and bounced on Fernando’s chest. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. Fernando sighed and touched her shoulder gently. She looked back up at him.

“We are engaged, Lorena. Am not ashamed of his or this. Am proud and so very happy. I love him, Lorena.” Fernando smiled, getting caught up in the moment. Lorena considered him momentarily before pushing from his hold and rushing back into the house. “Lorena!” Fernando yelled desperately towards her. She didn’t stop or turn. She just disappeared into the house. Fernando felt sick. Of all of the people in his family he was sure Lorena would understand, be supportive, make bad jokes and tease him. That’s what Lorena did, in everything for Fernando. She always had his back. But now? He felt so rejected from the people he was made to call family he wanted to sink into the grass and never resurface. He was hurt more by Lorena’s rejection that his father’s cruel words. Fernando thrust his ring back under his shirt, fighting the tears that were brimming in his eyes. 

Mark had turned away from Ana at the sound of Fernando desperately calling his sister. From what he could see of Fernando in the distance, something was wrong. Ana watched him curiously as he watched her son, a small smile pulling at her lips. Ana was sure there was some reason no one was telling her as to why Mark had really come here; if Fernando had broken up with his girlfriend – that much José had told her – then he wouldn’t just find a friend to bring along instead. Ana hoped she knew he son well enough to know that. Mark was obviously special to Fernando (but Ana had no idea to what degree or how far their relationship really went).

“So you can either go down the front path and round the road to get down to it, which Fernando uses a lot for running, or you can come down the hill here. This is a lot quicker but the road is a very pretty route.” Ana smiled, bringing Mark’s attention back to her. She could see the longing to leave for Fernando in his eyes. Ana had finished showing him around the house anyway. She liked that about Mark. The way he seemed to want to protect Fernando. It made her smile. Mark smiled back at her. 

“Thanks. You’ve got a really nice house here.” Mark said and Ana patted his shoulder. 

“Thank you. Please feel free and make yourself at home.” Ana smiled. “I will go back and start on dinner now.” She crossed ahead of Mark and led him back to the house. As Ana walked inside Mark stopped by Fernando. 

“Fernando.” Mark muttered, catching his shoulder. Fernando didn’t turn; he just walked away from the house and round towards some trees. Mark followed him. “Fernando, don’t walk away from me. Talk to me. What’s wrong? What happened?” Mark called, striding quickly in the wake of Fernando. Once Fernando led him into the shade of some big tree he turned and threw his arms around Mark pulling him closer. Mark understood instantly and held him close, rubbing small circles into his back. They were obviously out of viewing range from the house here. Mark frowned a little at how closed and hidden they had to be. Why couldn’t José and Ana be like his parents, care free and only wanting them to be happy? “What happened, bub?” Mark said softly into Fernando’s ear.

“Lorena…” Fernando muttered, burying himself deeper into Mark. 

“What happened with Lorena?” Mark cooed.

“She knows. She found out because she over heard Papa and me talking. And she got confused because she could not understand so I tried to explain but she noticed the ring and now she knows everything…”

“That’s not a bad thing.” Mark tried soothingly. Fernando’s silent tears were staining onto his shirt. He pulled him closer, trying everything in his power to make Fernando feel better. “Why are you crying?”

“Thought when I told her she would understand and be happy for me. For us. Though she would be supportive, caring, just tease me. I want that. Want her to be OK about this.” Fernando said, grasping Mark’s shirt tighter. Mark sighed, understanding. 

“And she’s not.” Another fucking person in this family against Fernando. Mark forced his anger away, focusing on comforting Fernando. 

“She just walked away. Told her everything. How we feel, what this is… She just… Walked away…”

“Fernando, this is going to be OK. We can do this, all right? You and me, together. Because we’re stronger than all of them. I know this must suck for you, but I’m still here and I'm not going anywhere.” Mark pushed Fernando slightly out of his hold so he could look into his face. He tilted Fernando’s chin up and cupped his face. “Until we’re old and grey.” Mark added with a smile and Fernando pulled him closer until their lips met.

Lorena turned from the window and slid down the wall. This was weird. Very, extremely, confusingly weird. The mug her father had put in her hand sent warmth over her skin. She breathed deeply, forcing herself to take in the scene she had just witnessed from her bedroom window. Fernando and Mark. She clutched the mug closer. Fernando and Mark engaged. She took a shaky sip, making sure her breathing was still under control. Fernando and your Brother-in-Law Mark. Lorena replayed the last words Fernando had said to her in her head. Am not ashamed of him or this. Am proud and so very happy. Her eyes slid closed as she remember his face, his expression. The happiness that had radiated from him. The pure hint of love that had danced in his eyes. And she played back the kiss she had seen from the window. A kiss of comfort because Fernando was probably feeling so alone in this house right now. Delicate. The soft, comforting words she imagined Mark had given to him to make her brother pull him close. I love him, Lorena.

Lorena’s eyes opened and she felt her cheeks pull into a smile. And she laughed. A happy laugh. A relieved laugh. And she couldn’t stop that laugh because she was so happy for Fernando. For finding Mark. For how they worked together. She couldn’t stop herself. And the more she laughed the better she felt. Because she knew she was OK with it all. She was so overwhelmingly happy for her little brother she wanted to run down and steal him from Mark so she could offer her congratulations. The handle on her door turned and the door opened, letting her father in. She sighed, bringing her laughter to a stop but she couldn’t rid her face of the smile. Her father looked at her wearily. 

“Are you all right, Lorena?” He asked her in Spanish. She pushed herself to her feet, crossing the room. She planted a small kiss on her father’s cheek as she reached the doorframe and smiled at him. 

“Perfect.” She replied in her native tongue and she sprung out of the room and down the stairs. José watched her go before crossing the room and looking out of Lorena’s window that overlooked the end of the garden. He looked down to the big oak tree that pushed shade across the green floor but nothing else was out there. José sighed as he left the room and headed down the stairs, hearing Mark’s voice drifting through the house as he spoke happily to Ana and Fernando. José sighed, racking his brains for the best way to get the Australian out of his house for good. 

\- - -

After dinner, Mark and Fernando were sat together on sun loungers out the back of the house by the pool. The sun was setting over the beach and Fernando had pushed their chairs together so they were as close as they could be. Mark had linked their hands together and hidden the connection between the armrests of the two chairs from the sight-line of the house. Fernando was content as Mark rubbed little circles into the back of his hand, even if he did long for closer contact with his fiancée than this. 

“Mark.” Fernando whispered into the sky. Mark had his free hand lazily resting on his stomach in compliment to Ana’s amazing cooking. He tilted his head in Fernando’s direction.

“Yes, mate.” Mark whispered back.

“I love you.” Fernando sighed, relaxing back into his chair.

“Te amo.” Mark muttered back, pulling their linked hands to his face and fleetingly brushing his lips against Fernando’s. Fernando sat up a bit and looked at him.

“What?” Fernando asked, his eyes a little wider than normal. Mark blushed. 

“Did I say it wrong?” Mark said, sitting up also. Fernando shook his head as his eyes watered a little. 

“Was perfect.” Fernando said in an overwhelmed voice. The temptation, the sheer temptation to lean over and kiss Mark now. That’s how this moment should have ended. Fernando should have kissed him. Fuck what everyone else thought. It was perfect. Fernando wanted to complete it. The spontaneity, the perfection. Mark smiled and kissed the back of Fernando’s hand again before settling down into his seat once more. Fernando opened his mouth to say something, but someone cleared their throat behind him. Mark dropped his hand as Fernando turned. 

“Am sure you are supposed to kiss him when he says that.” Lorena teased as she perched on the end of Fernando’s chair. Fernando looked at her confused as she folded her arms, a teasing but happy smirk on her face. When Fernando didn’t move Lorena pressed the issue. “Do not not on my account.” Lorena smiled. “Look, will even cover my eyes.” Lorena placed both of her hands over her eyes and sat patiently. Fernando just looked over at her as if she was mad. That was, until Mark’s fingers brushed up his side and he turned to see Mark had sat up again and was facing him. Fernando blinked, unable to understand anything as Mark cupped his face. 

“Fernando.” Mark said softly, leaning forwards until their foreheads were touching. Fernando fought to keep his breathing steady. “Te amo.” Mark sighed before pushing their lips together. Fernando fell into the moment and completely forgot Lorena was sitting there. His eyes slid closed as he caught Mark’s bottom lips softly between his own. His arms wrapped around Mark’s neck as the Australian pushed into the kiss, deepening it slightly. Mark’s hand pushed into Fernando’s hair as he moved to push him backwards. Lorena touched both of them on the shoulder with a smirk on her face. 

“OK, is enough. As much as I enjoy watching you try to eat my little brother’s face…” Lorena smiled and Fernando blushed. Mark emulated Lorena’s expression. 

“Sorry, just so hard to resist.” Mark teased making Fernando’s face turn more red. Lorena and Mark laughed at him and he pouted. 

“Am so happy you are both getting amusement out of me.” Fernando said, averting his pout to Lorena and then Mark.

“Is my job.” Lorena shrugged. 

“And you knew this about me before you agreed to marry me. So really it’s your fault.” Mark smiled, kissing the tip of Fernando’s nose. Fernando sent Lorena a fleeting look but she seemed calm and happy and just laughed along with Mark’s joke. Fernando frowned at her a little. 

“Do not understand.” Fernando sent at her. 

“What is that?” Lorena smiled back, moving to sit next to Mark. 

“Earlier… You were-”

“-Was shocked earlier, Nano. Was not ready to hear it. Just needed time to let it sink in.” She smiled, holding Fernando’s shoulder. Fernando beamed at her. “You know I always have your back.” Fernando pulled her into a tight hug and muttered his thanks in Spanish in her ear. Fernando pulled back and Mark retook his hand. 

“Where is Papa?” Fernando asked, looking over at the window. 

“With Mama in the kitchen.” Lorena said, getting up. “Don’t get too carried away, remember is a very open plan house. We can see everything.” Lorena teased before disappearing into the house. Fernando sighed happily as Mark pulled him onto his sun lounger and draped an arm around his shoulder.

“See? Time, Fernando. You’ve got to give them all time. They’ll come around.” Mark said, pushing his lips softly to Fernando’s temple, as he had done so any times before. Fernando curled closer to him, wrapping his arms around Mark’s waist. 

“You should expect a big sister talk from Lorena now; has done it with all my past partners I brought home.” Fernando sighed happily. 

“I’m sure Lorena and I can understand each other.” Mark said, pressing another kiss on Fernando’s forehead. They both sat on the edge of the sun lounger and watched the sun dip below the horizon. The reflection of colours spilling across the gentle sea. They were probably sitting out there for around an hour before it had turned very dark and José came out to find them. His jaw locked as he saw the close proximity of his son and his friend. Friend. That was all Mark would ever be to Fernando, he would make sure of it. 

“Are you two not cold out here?” José called happily in Spanish. Fernando shot him a dubious look whereas Mark looked to Fernando for translation. Fernando didn’t provide it. He waited until his father was standing in front of him before he spoke.

“Mark does not speak Spanish. You know this.” Fernando spoke the English in a bored tone. Mark looked at Fernando.

“Cannot ever learn his partner’s language. Are you sure he really wants to be with you, Fernando?” José pressed, still in Spanish. Fernando glared at him as he sat up, away from Mark.

“What do you want?” Fernando said, changing to Spanish. Mark frowned at him, curious for the language change. 

“I told you this was not happening in my house. I do not want you two together here and-”

“-Are not doing anything. Just sitting.” Fernando said as he folded his arms. Mark didn’t like what Fernando’s tone implied. Even if he couldn’t understand the words they were saying he could hear José’s anger and Fernando’s impatience. 

“Do not treat me a fool, Fernando. I told you what I wanted-”

“-And I told you what I wanted.” Fernando said defiantly. José’s eyes narrowed fractionally at his son and Mark sat himself up. 

“Erm.” Mark said, bringing both Spanish men’s attention to him. He looked from Fernando to José and then back again, not being able to find a way out of this. He pushed himself onto his feet. “I’m going to go to bed now… Good night.” Mark said. He squeezed Fernando’s shoulder and Fernando placed his hand on Mark’s briefly smiling up at him. Mark moved away from the scene looking back just as he got into the house to see Fernando smiling up at his father. Mark sighed as he retired to the spare room.

“You are seriously going to flaunt this around my house?” José seethed, looking down at his son. 

“You made something of this, we were just sitting here.”

“I saw what you did in front of Lorena.” José shot and Fernando swallowed. That was a little awkward. Fernando found he couldn’t look his father in the eye. “I told you no, Fernando, and now you are deliberately defying me.”

“I love him, Papa.” Fernando said, getting to his feet. José looked like he was about to be sick. “I love him and I always will. Nothing you ever say will change that face. I will be with him for the rest of my life.” As Fernando finished talking he swept into the house in the same direction as Mark, leaving his father standing alone. However, he did go to his own room, not Mark’s. Because he knew he could push his father, but he wasn’t sure what he would do if he went too far.

\- - -

Fernando was cold. Uncomfortably so. He pulled the pillow he had his arms wrapped around closer but it didn’t help. As much as he tried to pretend, it wasn’t Mark. It wasn’t giving out any warmth what so ever. For once the thin sheets and only pyjama bottoms were not warm enough. He torso was cold and he knew a shirt would probably sort that. But he didn’t want to move. He just wanted Mark to be there. He looked over at his old Ferrari alarm clock, smiling at the irony of the aesthetic appearance as he now drove one for real and it was parked out the front of the house. It had just gone one in the morning. Fernando sighed, burying himself further under the duvet and closing his eyes.

A little while later did he feel the soft pads dance across his hip. He thought he had imagined it. Thought that he had fallen to that place halfway between being awake and asleep. But then a palm pressed into his side and slide across his stomach. Fernando’s breath caught as he felt the duvet be pulled off his back and the other side of his bed dip slightly. Mark pulled himself closer to Fernando, enveloping the Spaniard in his body heat. Fernando shivered pleasantly and he turned his head over his shoulder to look at Mark’s face. Mark smiled as he pressed their lips together softly. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Mark whisper/explained as he curled around Fernando bringing him closer. Fernando turned over so they were facing each other. 

“Me neither; too cold without you.” Fernando whispered back. Mark closed his eyes.

“I couldn’t get comfortable without you.” Mark sighed, pressing another kiss onto Fernando’s lips. Fernando smiled as he turned back over and pulled Mark closer. Mark fitted his head comfortably in the curve between Fernando’s neck and shoulder. “You’re cold.” Mark complained making Fernando smile.

“But you’ll warm me up.” Fernando whispered, taking one of Mark’s hands in his own and kissing it. Mark pulled Fernando closer. 

“Te amo, bub,” Mark whispered, kissing Fernando’s neck.

“Te amo.” Fernando smiled, all ready hearing Mark’s soft breathing telling him he was asleep.

\- - -

Fernando woke first with Mark’s warm breath making the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He turned cautiously, not wanting to wake Mark and looked at his sleeping face. He looked so peaceful, like he had been sculpted in this position just for Fernando’s purpose. Fernando pushed the short curls from his face and Mark adjusted himself, pushing into Fernando’s touch, as he hummed contently. Fernando smiled and kissed his forehead. 

“Te… Amo…” Mark muttered in his sleep. Fernando’s heart swelled and he couldn’t stop himself pushing Mark and his lips together. Mark’s eyes fluttered open, his face breaking into a smile. “Good morning.” Mark yawned, his eyes focusing on Fernando. “I was just dreaming about you…” Mark sighed, pulling Fernando closer. 

“Yes?”

“Yeah…It was nice…” Mark pressed a kiss to Fernando’s forehead.

“About?”

“Can’t tell you that. If I do it might not come true.” Mark sighed, rolling onto his back so Fernando could curl onto his torso like they normally did in the mornings. As Fernando did their two rings clicked together from the chains around their necks. 

“Dreams are not like wishes.” Fernando smiled and Mark began to draw patterns across his shoulder blades with his finger.

“That one was.” Mark sighed, kissing Fernando again. 

“Am going to go for a run this morning, would you like to come?” Fernando asked with wide, happy eyes. Mark kissed him again.

“Love to, mate.” Mark smiled and Fernando nodded, pushing out of the bed. Mark watched him cross to the door and pick up his phone. 

“Will check it is safe for you to leave. Will send you a text.” Fernando blushed, feeling like a teenager again. Mark laughed at him as Fernando left the room. He took the stairs two at a time and walked through to the kitchen to find his mother and father working on breakfast. 

“Good morning, Fernando.” Ana smiled cheerily in Spanish. His father gave him a nod of acknowledgement and Fernando sent Mark a quick text letting him know it was OK to leave his room. 

“Morning, Mama.” Fernando smiled also in Spanish, placing a kiss on each of her cheeks. “Am taking Mark for a run this morning.”

“Mark?” his father said with a small frown.

“How lovely. I was telling him how nice it was to run down the road to the beach.” Ana said, ignoring her husband. Fernando smiled at her.

“I will take him that way then.” Fernando beamed, sending his father a smug look. José glared down at the mixture he was working with. “Will be back for breakfast.”

Mark opened Fernando’s bedroom door and looked both ways down the hall before walking out slowly. Act casual, Mark. Nobody knows you stayed in there last night. Act like you haven’t done anything wrong. No one will know.

“Sneaking out of his room? How very mature of you.” Lorena teased as she lent against her own bedroom door. Mark turned to face her, his face turning red. Lorena smiled knowingly at him. 

“We’re going for a run.” Mark said, unaware why. Lorena raised an eyebrow at him. 

“And that is why you are sneaking out of his room like a caught teenager?” 

“We didn’t do anything.” Mark turned defensive quickly and Lorena didn’t believe him.

“Sure. Have fun on your run.” Lorena teased. Mark rolled his eyes. 

“We’re not animals, Lorena.” Mark smiled as he passed her into the spare room and changed into his running gear. When three soft knocks were heard at his door he opened it and let Fernando in, wearing knee-length shorts and an Oakley shirt. Mark rolled his eyes. “Do you own anything that isn’t branded?” Mark asked, wrapping his arms around Fernando’s waist. Fernando stole a kiss. 

“Yes, but not to train in.” Fernando smiled. Mark let him go. 

“Alright, take me for a run then.”

\- - -

They had run down the road route to the beach and Mark had been in awe of how beautiful the location was. Having Fernando running in front of it made him want to take too many photos and store it forever. It was so beautiful and perfect it overwhelmed Mark. As suddenly Mark needed more of Fernando. He needed him to be closer to be muttering things in his ear. Feel Fernando’s skin against his. Mark swallowed, trying to focus on running rather than the working muscles of his fiancée in front of him. 

They had been sat of the beach together for a little while, letting the tide ebb in and out with Fernando’s parent’s house set in the background. Mark looked over to it before moving closer to Fernando and tasting his skin, kissing gently against his neck. Fernando had his knees bent up and his arms loosely wrapped around them, but at Mark’s touch his head tilted to give Mark better access. Mark’s kiss ran up to his ear.

“I’ve got a secret.” Mark muttered, making Fernando shiver and long for his touch again. 

“It is?” Fernando asked breathlessly. Mark’s soft chuckle filled his head. 

“You. You’re my secret. At least for today and part of tomorrow. People aren’t supposed to know about you. But you’re too much for me. I can’t not want you every time I see you.” Mark purred. One of Fernando’s hands was gripping into Mark’s arm. “My dirty  little secret.” Mark said slowly, smiling at the way Fernando’s breathing became wrecked. “I bet you, if I tried hard enough, I could make you my dirty little secret without even removing your clothes.” Mark’s feather light kiss on his neck made Fernando gasp, reaching out of Mark. He pulled on the Australian’s shoulders until Mark was lying on top of him. He lent close enough to Fernando so the Spaniard could almost touch him, but as Fernando arched his back to him he lent up, smirking. “Or maybe that would be too easy…” Fernando gave a small whine as he tried to touch Mark’s body with his own again but Mark moved away. 

“Please…” Fernando muttered. Mark just smirked at him. Fernando took one of his hands and pushed it down the front of Mark’s shorts, grabbing his half-hard cock. Mark hissed on contact and fell lightly onto Fernando’s body. Fernando let go of Mark and rubbed their crotches together, moaning softly with his hands pushing Mark’s arse into him. “Please…” Fernando asked again, looking up at Mark with dark, lust-filled eyes. Mark looked around the deserted beach but still decided to move to a slightly more secluded spot just in case someone saw them. He took Fernando’s hand and ran down into a small sandy patch that was surrounded by a circle of big rocks blocking them from sight. Perfect. He lay Fernando back down and crawled on top of him again. Fernando’s hands pushed his arse down, but Mark resisted. 

“You’re really quite worked up today, aren’t you?” Mark purred, leaning tantalisingly close to Fernando. He whimpered again, wriggling slightly and trying to gain some relief. Mark smiled as he sucked on Fernando’s neck, just below his t-shirt line so it wouldn’t be spotted by anyone. Fernando moaned, his hands abandoning Mark’s arse as they weaved into his hair, pulling his closer. He thrashed his legs a little until Mark pinned them down with his own. Fernando’s hips arched up but Mark pulled away again, smirking. “How long until breakfast?” Mark asked, trying not to laugh at the confusion that crossed Fernando’s face. Fernando looked at his watch. 

“Hour.” Fernando breathed, trying to pull Mark back down to him. Mark smiled.

“Half an hour to get back, fifteen minutes enough time to shower?” Mark asked. Fernando nodded frantically, still trying to pull Mark closer to him. “So that gives us fifteen minutes here…” Mark smiled seductively. Fernando pushed himself off the floor and kissed Mark passionately, desperately, frantically. Mark ground his hips into Fernando’s and Fernando’s moan filled his mouth. He smiled, breaking away. “I wonder how quiet you can be…” Mark mused before grinding down on Fernando again, this time not connecting their mouths. Fernando tried, but it was too much. His moan filled the air just before he started clawing at Mark’s chest. 

“Please, Mark, please. I need… God, please…” Fernando whimpered, pulling at Mark’s collar. Mark relented, letting Fernando clam their mouths together, but he raised his hips. Fernando moaned impatiently as he thrust his hand back into Mark’s trousers, completely bypassing his cock and toying with his balls. Mark shuddered, almost collapsing onto Fernando as his arms shook with the new pleasure. Fernando had never done this before. Mark had never felt like… Mark’s brain was fogging. He wanted, so badly, to feel Fernando’s fingers dancing up and down his length, but they way he was massaging his balls, playing with them. Mark couldn’t take it. 

In a sorry attempt of revenge, Mark echoed Fernando’s actions. He was much more satisfied when his first touch made Fernando’s head fall back into the sand and a combination of pants, moans and fragmented words fell from his mouth. Mark rested himself down on top of Fernando as they both played with each other, moans echoing, messy kisses washed down each other’s skin, free hands bringing the other closer. Mark pulled his hand from Fernando’s shorts as he recognised the sighs of Fernando being close. And feeling it himself he removed Fernando’s hand from him. Fernando looked up at him, panting heavily. 

“Together.” Mark breathed as he pushed their lips together and their hard members. Fernando moaned heavily, hands scrambling all over Mark’s body to bring him closer. He dug his nails into Mark’s back to stop him moving, to keep their crotches constantly together. Mark rubbed them up and down to Fernando’s cries and thrust forwards as they came together, both feeling sated. Mark went to roll off Fernando but the Spaniard gripped onto him, breathing heavily. Mark placed chaste kisses all over his face his face gently until their breathing had returned, somewhat, to normal. “Not very quiet, are you?” Mark grinned and Fernando joined their lips for a slow and sensual kiss. 

“Te amo.” Fernando sighed, relaxing back into the sand. Mark sat up and looked down at him. 

“Te amo, Fernando.” Mark looked down to the darkened patch on both of their shorts. Now Mark really did feel like a teenager again. He sighed, leaning over Fernando. “How much of our fifteen minutes is left?” Mark asked almost casually. Fernando lifted his wrist and looked at his watch. 

“About eight minutes.” Fernando sighed, letting his arm fall back onto the sand. Mark slid himself further down Fernando’s legs and set about undoing the fastening of his shorts. Fernando lifted his head at little, watching curiously as Mark undid his shorts and started freeing his cock. “What are you do-uh!” Fernando’s voice cut off and his head fell back into the sand as Mark licked up his too-sensitive cock. Mark smiled as he lent over Fernando briefly to look in his face.

“There’s enough time for round two.”

\- - -

Mark stood on the balcony overlooking the beach and was staring down at the position of the hidden cove Fernando and he were in less than an hour ago. Tomorrow, when they were safely at Fernando’s he would make it slow and sensual, pulling out the minutes until neither of them could take it any more. That was the kind of sex Mark preferred: the intimate, slow, connective sex. The sex that actually meant something. He loved the occasional desperate fuck or the quick-before-we-get-caught sex, but to him, with Fernando, he felt like they were tumbling together, sharing each other’s headspace when they built it up and explored each other. That was his favourite. 

He was still standing in his messy shorts from their run and the two times they had both reached their orgasms. Fernando had jumped in the shower as soon as he got in, refusing Mark’s offer of sharing a shower. So Mark had smiled at him and made his way out here to reflect on everything he couldn’t live without about Fernando. It wasn’t something he had planned to stand and think about, it was just the first thing on his mind. He didn’t hear the person slide the glass door open and join him, buried too deep in his own thoughts. 

“Have a nice run?” Lorena asked, startling Mark slightly. Mark didn’t turn to face her; he just smiled. She joined him leaning against the balcony rail. Lorena took in his expression. “Will take that as a yes then.” She smiled, looking out at the beach. “Where is Fernando?”

“In the shower.” Mark sighed. Lorena looked over at him and Mark met her gaze. “He didn’t want to share a shower, apparently that would take longer.” Mark shrugged. He loved how he could just talk to Lorena about Fernando. She didn’t seem to get embarrassed about anything. She probably just stored up everything Mark told her so she could tease Fernando about it. Mark and her were a lot more alike than he first thought. 

“There is another shower.” Lorena said, pointing through the house. “You do not have to wait for him.”

“It’s fine, I’m happy to wait, thank you.” Mark smiled before turning and looking back out at the beach. Lorena sighed, as she stood closer to Mark. 

“Nano has probably all ready mentioned I will say this, and it is only because he is my little brother and I do not want to see him hurt.” Lorena started in a serious tone, all humour and jokes gone. But she did seem a little resentful to have to say this. Mark nodded at her to go on, understanding. “Do not hurt him. Please. You may think I am powerless against you, and maybe I am, but if you hurt him, ever, I swear I will make you regret it. Personally.”

“I’m never going to hurt him, Lorena.” Mark said softly.

“Neither was Raquel.” Lorena said in a sharp tone. Mark swallowed. 

“I love your brother more than I actually thought was humanly possible. The thought of anything bad happening to him haunts me. If I ever let something happen to him you wouldn’t need to make me regret it because I would spend the rest of my life doing so. Lorena, I care so much about him. I can’t express this to you in words because it’s not possible. I love him and I swear on my own life that I will never do anything to hurt him. I just need you to trust me.” Lorena let a small smile creep onto her face as she placed a hand on Mark’s shoulder. 

“Mark, if there is anyone I trust with him is you. Have never seen him like this before. Has fallen very hard for you. Is why it is important to me you understand I will come for you if you hurt him. I do not think you will, but I just need you to know this.”

“I understand, Lorena. Thank you for caring about him.”

“One of these days I will let it go to you.” Lorena smiled sadly. Mark shook his head. 

“You’ll never stop caring about him like you do. I don’t want you to.” Mark said and Lorena pulled him into a hug. Mark accepted it and smiled into her hair.

“Everything OK?” Fernando asked from the doorway, with only a towel wrapped around his waist and his ring sitting comfortably on his chest. His hair was still damp from his shower and he blushed slightly under Mark’s gaze. 

“Fine.” Lorena said, turning to her brother, her eyes falling momentarily on the red, bruise-like mark at the base of his neck. She walked back into the house, saying: “Cover yourself up, Nano, you might get bad tan lines.” In a teasing tone as she passed her brother. Mark crossed to him and held his hips, breathing in his clean scent. 

“Ignore her.” Mark smiled, placing a small kiss on Fernando’s collarbone and tasting his caramel skin. One of Fernando’s hands held his towel whereas the other curled into the hair at the base of Mark’s neck. Mark laid his cheek on Fernando’s chest and smiled as his ring rested against his nose. 

“Mark…” Fernando said, a little breathlessly. Mark straightened up, taking Fernando’s hips again. “What did Lorena want?”

“We were just talking about the beach.” Mark lied, kissing Fernando’s nose. Fernando didn’t need to know about Lorena and his conversation. Fernando accepted his reason and his kiss before pushing him back into the house.

“Go and shower; you smell.” Fernando teased, pushing Mark into the bathroom. Mark turned in the doorframe and looked at Fernando, still only dressed in a towel. 

“Come with me?” Mark asked. Fernando stuck his tongue out at him. 

“Am already clean. Shower yourself.”

“Pretty please?”

“Do not want to get dirty again.”

“But you’re so hot when you’re dirty.” Mark muttered, dropping his voice. Fernando blushed but still moved close to Mark and stood on his tiptoes to place his lips at Mark’s ear. 

“Shower alone or I won’t get dirty for a whole week.” Fernando teased in a seductive tone before dropping to his normal height and sauntering down the hall. Mark watched him go, his focus slightly stolen by the image on Fernando’s back. Only when the retreating figure of Fernando had completely disappeared did Mark turned and close the bathroom door. 

\- - -

Ana had cooked a wonderful traditional Christmas dinner of an arrangement of seafood dishes. Everyone was talking and eating happily, getting used to the steady flow of casual conversation. Fernando was sat with Mark on his left and Lorena opposite him. Opposite Mark was Ana and at the head of the table, next to Mark and Ana, was José. Lorena kept sending Fernando knowing looks across the table as she ate and Fernando felt like he had regressed to five again when Lorena would give him similar looks because she knew he had brought his favourite red toy car to the table and he wasn’t allowed to. Fernando tried to avoid catching her eye. 

Ana got up to begin clearing away when it happened. Everyone had been sharing a bottle of white wine, bar Fernando, and everyone was happily talking. Mark’s hand had rested on Fernando’s knee as José told a story about Fernando and Lorena when he had tried to give Lorena a Go-Kart. However, Fernando had lost track of the story. Smiling at Mark, Fernando had to resist the urge to curl into him. Lorena kicked his shin under the table and Fernando frowned over at her in an angry manner. She urged he to lean closer to him keeping an eye on their father. Fernando obliged. 

“If you don’t want Papa to know about Mark and you I would advise not letting him touch you knee and not looking up at him like you are deeply in love with him.” Lorena muttered quietly in English across the table. Fernando continued to frown at her. She rolled her eyes. “I can see it from here. You may think is hidden under the table but it is not.”

“Papa all ready knows.” Fernando said, moving to lean back in his chair. Lorena grabbed his wrist. 

“What?” Panic shot through her eyes. They were both all too aware of their father’s opinion of homosexuals. 

“I told him a few weeks ago. Am not surprised he did not say anything.”

“How did he react?” Lorena asked, not letting go of Fernando’s wrist. Fernando wanted to be able to calm the panic in her eyes but he knew he couldn’t. He sighed. 

“Not well. Mark thought-” Fernando’s explanation was cut short.

“-What are you two whispering about down there?” José said, making them both turn to look at their father. Mark looked between all three of them, not knowing what to do. He picked up a plate. 

“I’ll help Ana with-” Mark started. He was also cut off. 

“-Sit. You are a guest in this house you will stay there. Lorena should be helping her mother with the dishes but instead she is whispering to her brother. Why?” José’s voice became more demanding and Fernando swallowed, leaning away from his sister. Mark sat back down next to Fernando, looking over at him in a worried manner. Lorena and Fernando shared a look before Fernando looked down at the table. 

“Is not a problem, Papa, we were just discussing where Fernando can show Mark tomorrow on their way home.” Lorena said, unaware that their father was not aware Mark was going home with Fernando. Fernando closed his eyes as his father’s glare averted to him. 

“Am sorry?” José shot at Fernando. Fernando still didn’t look up. 

“Mark is coming home with me tomorrow, Papa. We are staying at mine for the new year.”

“No.” José said bluntly, turning away from his son. Fernando looked up at him with a disbelieving expression. Mark shrunk back in his chair and Lorena looked worried between her brother and father. 

“No?” Fernando queried in an incredulous voice. José looked back over at him.

“You are not taking him back to yours. You are staying here and he can go home.” José spoke as if Mark wasn’t in the room. Fernando turned in his chair so he was facing his father directly. 

“No.” Fernando said bluntly. 

“You will not defy me, Fernando.”

“I will.” Fernando shot back. José eyes flashed with anger. 

“Lorena, go and help your mother.” José said not looking away from Fernando. Lorena folded her arms.

“Am not going anywhere, Papa.” Lorena said in a voice not quite as confident as Fernando’s. José looked at her.

“I wish to speak to your brother in private.” José pressed. Lorena shook her head. 

“Nano and I have no secrets.” Lorena said and their father realised she knew. Worse, she was on their side. José glared back at Fernando. 

“You told her?”

“She found out.” Fernando shrugged, piling together the few remaining plates on the table. 

“Because you told her?”

“Did not say anything.” José looked at his son for a moment before standing and taking the plates from him. 

“You are not taking your friend home. You are going to say goodbye to him tomorrow and I, personally, will drive him to the airport. No discussion.” José walked out of the room and as the door shut behind him Fernando pulled his ring from around his neck and started fiddling with the chain. Mark held his wrists.

“Fernando, stop. I know you’re angry but you need to think-”

“-Nothing to think about. Will not be treated like a child.” Fernando shot, trying to get out of Mark’s grip to get his ring off his chain. Lorena can over and touched his shoulder. 

“Nano, please. Just calm down.”

“Am calm. Perfectly so.” Fernando shot, glaring at Mark. Mark still held his wrists. He took one hand off of Fernando and pushed his ring back below his shirt. Fernando seemed to deflate into Mark as the band touched his skin. Mark placed a small kiss on Fernando’s forehead as the kitchen door opened. José only caught Mark leaning quickly away from Fernando. He glared at the Australian as he sat back down. Lorena re-took her seat and Fernando lent forwards to look at his father. “Papa, am-”

“-I said we are not discussing it further, Fernando. Enough now.”

“You cannot hold me here! Mark and I are leaving tomorrow. Together.” Fernando said bluntly. José couldn’t even look at him.

“Never though you could disappoint me so much, Fernando.” José spat, folding his arms. Fernando fell back in his chair, emotions of anger and crushing sadness battling in his head. At that point, Ana brought through the desert and the discussion was put on hold. 

Fernando retired to his room quickly at the end of dinner. José just glared at Mark as he followed him out of the room shortly afterwards. Mark went straight to Fernando’s room, giving a soft knock as he opened the door. Fernando was sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed with his knees tucked up close, making him appear a lot smaller than he actually was. Mark closed the door and sat next to him, pulling him under his arm. Fernando didn’t react to his hold. 

“Tell me the end of the Go-Kart story.” Mark asked softly. Fernando sighed, closing his eyes and looking down at the floor. 

“He made a Go-Kart. Tried to give it to Lorena. She didn’t want it and I did.” Fernando shrugged, re-telling the story in a very unenthusiastic tone. 

“That is?” Mark smiled, trying to joke. It fell on deaf ears. Fernando shrugged again and looked up at Mark. 

“Was three, do not remember.” 

“He was proud of you when he was telling me the story.”

“Not anymore.” Fernando said, turning away from Mark again.

“Fer-”

“-No. Is something I have to deal with. I cannot live without you but I can live without him.” Fernando said darkly.

“You don’t mean that.”

“If he asks me to pick this is what I will say.” Fernando said, glaring at the floor. Mark placed his lips on Fernando’s temple as the door opened again. Mark began to move away from Fernando but Fernando held his arm around his shoulder, pulling him back. They both look up at José who folded his arms, glaring down at them.

“I wish to speak to you alone, Fernando.” José said in English.

“He is not going anywhere.” Fernando said, deliberately moving closer to Mark. José closed his eyes to compose himself, then looked back at Fernando, speaking Spanish. 

“I do not care if he stays or not. I know he cannot understand me.” Fernando glared at his father as he found a loophole and still managed to exclude Mark from their conversation. 

“Then why did you ask him to leave?” Fernando asked in Spanish. Mark looked between the two of them, trying to follow the conversation he couldn’t understand. José ignored Fernando’s question.

“One of our family friends are coming tomorrow and you are to stay here and meet their daughter. I will take your friend to the airport in the morning.”

“No.” Fernando said, a small simple word even Mark could understand. 

“Am not giving you a choice, Fernando. That is what is happening.”

“Is not. I will not do it. Mark and I are leaving tomorrow morning. Am thirty-two years old! You cannot tell me what I have to do!”

“I can and I will! I am your father and always will be. This… fling-”

“-Is much more than a fling.” Fernando spat, reaching for the chain around his neck. Mark stopped his hands again and José sent a confused look between the two of them. 

“José, I-” Mark started as Fernando’s hands fell into his lap. José cut across him. 

“-Only my friends call me José, not men who take my son and… defile him.” José spat in English at Mark. Mark felt Fernando tense beside him. 

“Want to speak with Mama.” Fernando said in Spanish, pushing himself to his feet. José glared at him before pushing him backwards onto his bed to prevent him from going anywhere. 

“You are not to breath a word of this to her.” José said, holding his son’s shoulders onto the bed so he couldn’t get up. Mark stood, not sure of what to do. “We are calling Jovita in the morning.”

“Will not be given to some random woman! If I had to I would go back to Dasha!” Fernando spat at his father. Mark frowned at the mention of Dasha. 

“Great, then we call her tomorrow. Get this all sorted.”

“Cannot be sorted. We both ruined that relationship; there is nothing there now. I. Love. Mark.” Fernando seethed. José’s grip on Fernando’s shoulders got tighter. 

“You do not and this goes no further.” José spat.

“MAMA!” Fernando yelled. José grabbed a pillow close by and pushed it onto Fernando’s face to keep him quiet and Fernando thrashed out, his words muffled by the pillow. Mark pulled José’s hands off of Fernando throwing the pillow across the room and sending him sprawling on the floor as Fernando sat up, panting. José got to his feet, glaring at Mark. 

“Lets just calm-” Mark started, the end of his sentence lost as José’s fist connected with the side of his face. Mark felt backwards with a cry of pain, his cheek automatically throbbing painfully. “Fuck.” He muttered under his breath, holding his cheek.

“Papa!” Fernando shot angrily.

“We call Dasha or whoever tomorrow and you stay here.” José shot at Fernando in English before stepping over Mark and leaving the room. “No more discussions.” The door slammed and Fernando crawled over to Mark, looking at his face.

“Your Dad’s got a fucking good right hook.” Mark commented as Fernando examined the red mark on his face. 

“Am sorry.” Fernando sighed, sitting back on his heels. Mark looked over at him.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Mark said.

“Am sorry about him.” Fernando amended darkly. Mark swallowed. 

“What does he want you to do?”

“Stay here, meet another woman, go off and marry her and have kids.” Fernando muttered.

“Right.” Mark sighed, his grip on Fernando’s arm tightening a little in fear he was about to fade away. Fernando picked up on it. 

“No, Mark. Am not going to do it. Fuck him.” Fernando said, cupping Mark’s face. Mark hissed a little in pain when Fernando put pressure on the point of contact from José’s fist. “I love you. I have this for you.” Fernando pulled the ring out from under his shirt. He smiled when Mark’s eyes came off of it and back to him. “Until we are old and grey.” Mark kissed him softly in reply and Fernando gently wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck.

\- - -

Fernando wasn’t sleeping. Mark had his arms wrapped round him but it wasn’t helping. He had taken his chain from his neck and was holding the ring up above his head and looking at it. The chain swinging hypnotically as it hung down. Anger at his father was still burning intensely through his body. How dare he hit Mark? And what right did he think he had to demand Fernando leave him for someone else? In Fernando’s opinion his Dad was the one who was twisted and wrong. Fernando pulled the chain back over his head and looked over to the alarm clock: five-twenty in the morning. 

That wasn’t too early for a run. 

Fernando delicately climbed out of bed, cautious not to wake Mark, and headed to his bag, pulling out a clean shirt and running shorts. He pulled them on as well as zipping a hoodie on. His trainers were still by the front door and he pulled his socks on, padding quietly out of the room. The door creaked a little as Fernando opened it. He winced and looked back at Mark. He didn’t stir. Fernando exhaled and left the room as Mark rolled over, lying in the shape of a star and taking up the whole bed. Fernando would have laughed if he had seen it. 

He crossed the hall, remembering from his youth the places that creaked when you stood on them and hopping over them. He pushed his phone in his pocket as he descended the stairs; unaware Lorena had seen him pass from her room. He pulled on his trainers and picked up his keys, crossing quickly into the kitchen to fill up a bottle of water. With one last fleeting look around him, he opened the front door and stepped out into the cool, dark morning. He set off around the side of the house and down the hill, looking today for a quick route rather than one that he would do for training. The steep slope caused some problems but he made it down to the sandy beach mostly unscarred. He started with a gentle jog, just trying to warm up his cold muscles but turning over his shoulder every now and then and seeing the house that held his father brought back his anger and he ended up sprinting up the coastline. No one else was around. Nobody stopped him. He just channelled his anger into his running and propelled himself forwards.

He slowed up at the same point Mark and he stopped the morning before, taking the short journey to their little cove with a walk. No sighs that they had been there were prominent, the tide from yesterday having washed them all away. Fernando sat in the middle of the rocks, panting, as he pulled the chain from around his neck and sat, staring at the ring. His promise to Mark. Everything the ring meant to him that no one else could see. Until they were old and grey. Fernando couldn’t just let that go. They had been through so much together. And he loved Mark. He hated his dad. 

He sat, just looking at it until the sun lit the ground he sat on. Fernando was shocked to have been sitting out on the sand for so long. He pulled out his phone to check the time, but instead registered the seventeen missed calls from Mark and Lorena combined. Fernando looked back up at the house set in the distance and another wave of anger rushed through his muscles. His hand clamped around the ring in his hand as he sprinted back to the house.

\- - -

“Yeah, but he would have told me.” Mark exasperated as Lorena pushed a mug of tea into his hands. “He doesn’t just disappear.”

“No one has abducted him, Mark. Just calm down. He knows the area well.” Lorena said as Mark ran a hand through his hair. 

“I’m going to call him again.” Mark said getting out his phone. It was quarter past seven and he had been trying to find Fernando since six. Lorena chewed on her bottom lip.

“Do not do that. He has not answered either of us.”

“What if someone has beaten him up and taken his phone, Lorena.”

“Mark, you need to calm down.” Lorena took Mark’s phone and placed it on the side. Mark clutched his tea with both hands. 

“You probably think I’m paranoid but-” The slam of the front door had Mark stop talking. Mark put his mug down on the kitchen side and took a step towards the kitchen door. There was no need. As he took the first step, Fernando came through the door, a deep frown set on his face. He looked at Mark.

“Can you go and pack please?” Fernando said, offering no explanation of why he was panting or covered in sweat or why he had blood shot eyes or where he had been. 

“Where have you been?” Mark asked quietly. Fernando scratched the back of his neck. 

“A run.” He crossed the room and filled a glass with water. “Can you go and pack now?”

“Why didn’t you leave a note, send a text, answer the phone?” Mark said, watching Fernando drain the glass. “Why didn’t you wake me, I could have kept you company.” Mark muttered. 

“Wanted to run alone.” Fernando shot, putting the glass in the sink. He turned to Mark and folded his arms. “Pack please.”

“Fernando, what is wrong?” Lorena asked, crossing to her brother. Fernando just shrugged. 

“Nothing. I just want to go now.”

“We have to let them know we’ve gone, Fer.” Mark said. Fernando just looked at his cheek and the bruise that had ripened over night. Another wave of anger flooded him. 

“Lorena can tell them.” Fernando said. 

“What about your Mum?”

“Mark, please just go and pack, OK? I will be up in a moment.” Fernando said, running his right hand through his hair. Mark noted that his left was still resting on the counter behind him, being blocked from view by his body. Mark frowned, opening his mouth to say something but Lorena beat him to it. 

“Why do you want him out of here so badly?” Lorena asked sceptically. Fernando turned to her.

“You can go help him, please?” Fernando’s voice cracked a little. 

“What’s in your other hand?” Mark asked, causing Fernando to turn and face him with panic in his eyes. 

“What?”

“Your left hand, Fernando. What have you got in it?”

“I have not got anything in my hand.” Fernando said in an innocent tone. Mark didn’t buy it. 

“Come on, mate, let’s not be stupid about this. Just hand over whatever it is.”

“Is nothing, Mark.”

“Fernando.”

“Look!” Fernando opened up both of his hands and waved them in front of Mark, empty. Lorena was satisfied, but Mark grabbed Fernando’s left wrist and held it still, taking in the gold band on his ring finger. Fernando swallowed as Mark looked over at him. 

“You’re going to tell them.” Mark muttered quietly. Fernando let out a shaky breath.

“I want to. That’s where I went. Was thinking. Needed some clear head space.” Fernando said as Mark let his wrist go. Mark held Fernando’s eye contact as he pulled his own chain from around his neck and unhooked his ring, sliding it onto his finger. Fernando sighed in relief and fell into Mark’s arms. “Sorry.”

“Together, Fernando. We take everything together.” Mark said softly with sympathetic eyes as he pulled Fernando just out of his grip. He brushed some of his long curls from his face. “Lucky for you I was going to suggest we do this now anyway.” Fernando couldn’t help but smile up at Mark. 

“Great minds.” Fernando sighed. 

“Great minds indeed.”

“Papa is going to go mental.” Lorena said, pulling Mark and Fernando back to the situation at hand. 

“I do not care. He needs to understand.” Fernando said, his hand linking with Mark’s. She placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder. 

“Will go and pack your stuff.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Fernando sighed as she left the room, his fingers brushing the bruise on Mark’s face. 

“Let me lead this. I’m expecting him to break into Spanish and start yelling at you at some point. I’m going to really need you to translate.” Mark said, pushing his fingers back into Fernando’s hair. Fernando nodded as Mark pulled him into an embrace again. “I’ve got some things I want to say to him so let me say them before we say about the engagement. I’d don’t think he’s going to want to listen to me after that.”

“Thank you, Mark.” Fernando sighed, wrapping his arms around Mark’s neck.

“I love you.” Mark said, nuzzling Fernando’s face. Fernando smiled. 

“Say it in Spanish.” Fernando requested, looking deeply into Mark’s eyes.

“Te amo.” Mark purred and Fernando pulled him close for a kiss. They heard the kitchen door open, but it was to late. There wasn’t enough time to pull away. They were stuck, caught by whoever had walked into the kitchen. Fernando hoped it was Lorena. It wasn’t. He dropped back to his normal height and let his hands slid down Mark’s torso. Ana was standing wide-eyed in the kitchen doorway, but she wasn’t staring at her son’s face. Fernando frowned at her as she crossed into the kitchen and took his left hand from Mark’s body, examining the ring. Mark and Fernando exchanged a look before Ana spoke.

“This an engagement ring, Fernando?” Ana asked, her voice breathy and rasped. Fernando’s mouth opened but no words came out. He was watching his Mum, waiting for her response. She looked up at him, eyes shinning with tears and the start of a smile stretching onto her face. She let out a breath as it broke onto her cheeks. Fernando was confused… She was happy? “Is it?” She was positively beaming at him. Fernando could feel his own eyes tearing up as he began to smile back at his mother; his right arm bringing Mark closer to him. 

The happiness didn’t last long.

“Well.” The straining voice of José filtered into the room. There was no happiness in it, just a brutal force to prevent his anger spewing everywhere. Mark looked up to see the man himself standing in the doorway looking at Fernando’s hand being held by Ana. Fernando swallowed as he looked up at his father. “Is it?”


	32. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The prospect of going home is very appealing”   
> ~David Ginola~

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dad.”

“Ahh! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just wanted to let you know we’re home now.”

“…Right.”

“Yeah, at Fernando’s home I mean. Just got back from his parents…” There was a pause and Mark knew he Dad understood why he was calling without having to tell him.

“What happened?”

“Nothing… Nothing too bad…” Mark ran his thumb across the ring on his left hand nervously as he held the phone to his ear in his right.

“But something bad enough that meant you needed to call me?” Alan said. Mark sighed, running his left hand through his hair and sighing deeply. He turned his back to the Spanish landscape behind him and looked into Fernando’s house, at the closed door of his bedroom. 

“I suppose.” Mark sighed, feeling his posture deflate as he gripped the top of the balcony rail. 

“Hold on.” Alan said down the line. Mark listened as he Dad got out of a chair that creaked. 

“What’s the matter, Alan?” His mother’s voice was quieter as she was further from the phone.

“Mark’s just called for a chat.” His Dad said. He heard his footsteps as he crossed the wooden floor of the front room.

“Is everything alright?”

“They’ve just got back from Fernando’s folks house.”

“Oh…” Mark’s heart panged with more sadness at his mother’s voice. He had told his parents that José had not been happy with Fernando when he had initially told them and obviously they had concluded that this little trip hadn’t gone well either. They weren’t wrong.

“I’m sure everything’s fine, Di,” Mark heard his Dad say to his Mum. He heard the kiss Alan placed on his mother’s head and his eyes fell back on Fernando’s closed door. Down the phone-line, Mark heard the unmistakable sound of the sea and knew his Dad had gone out the back of the house.

“Dad?” Mark said, his voice weak. 

“What happened, Mark?” Alan’s voice was strong and fatherly. It offered comfort as well as asking to be told. Mark sighed.

“He won’t talk to me.” Another pause. 

“Have you tried talking to him?”

“No…” Mark breathed, sliding down the rail and sinking to the floor. 

“Then it’s more like you’re not talking to him, no?”

“He came in and went straight to his room without a word.” Mark’s voice was wavering, threatening to crack at any point.

“Did you follow him? Did he shut you out?”

“Yes and No…”

“Mark.” Alan sighed and Mark just felt worse. More of a disappointment to someone else. 

“I don’t know what to say to him. I can’t make him feel better.”

“Why don’t you start by telling me what’s happened, we can work from there.” Alan offered, ignoring the ten-hour time difference that was between them. Mark sighed.

“OK…”

\- - - - -

Ana had left her bedroom to see Lorena rushing into Fernando’s room, which was a little odd, but upon glancing in the room after her and seeing Fernando wasn’t in their she moved away, frowning a little as she headed down the stairs. She had left José finishing up his morning routine and walked towards the kitchen, ready to get breakfast started. She was going to miss her son when he left later on that day; it had been a while since she had seen him properly for a long duration of time and she was really getting used to having him around again. She sort of didn’t want him to leave. 

As she approached the kitchen, she heard two voices but didn’t take on board the words they were saying. Because of this, she waltzed into the kitchen unannounced to see Fernando with his arms around Mark and Mark with his arms around Fernando with their faces close as if they had just leant away from each other. Ana blinked as she watched Fernando cringe his eyes shut but still kept a firm hold of Mark. Mark was slowly turning towards her, his mouth slightly open with an indication he was about to say something. That was when she noticed it. Fernando’s left hand was gripping onto the front of Mark’s shirt and the gold band had caught the light of the low sun. Ana looked for a moment from it to her son before her brain filtered in the words she had heard but not taken in…

“…I don’t think he’s going to want to listen to me after that.”

“Thank you, Mark.”

“I love you.” 

“Say it in Spanish.”

“Te amo.” 

Ana took her son’s hand from Mark and examined the simple gold band. On his left hand. She briefly looked to Mark to see a similar ring on his left hand. Her eyes fell back onto Fernando’s hand as Mark’s voice echoed in her head… Te amo…

Te amo.

“This an engagement ring, Fernando?” Ana asked, her voice breathy and rasped. Fernando’s mouth opened but no words came out. He was watching his Mum, waiting for her response. She looked up at him, eyes shinning with tears and the start of a smile stretching onto her face. She let out a breath as it broke onto her cheeks. Fernando was confused… She was happy? “Is it?” She was positively beaming at him. Fernando could feel his own eyes tearing up as he began to smile back at his mother; his right arm bringing Mark closer to him. None of them heard him approach, none of them heard him gasp as Fernando smiled in response to his mother’s question. They were all too caught up in happiness. José was fuming, his fingernails digging into his palms.

No. No. NO! 

“Well.” The straining voice of José filtered into the room. There was no happiness in it, just a brutal force to prevent his anger spewing everywhere. Mark looked up to see the man himself standing in the doorway looking at Fernando’s hand being held by Ana. Fernando swallowed as he looked up at his father. “Is it?”

Nobody said anything. Nobody wanted to be the one to break the silence or answer the question. Ana let go of Fernando’s hand and he suddenly felt more alone that anything. But he couldn’t take his eyes off his father. The intense glare he was being sent was enough to make even the toughest men turn away. But Fernando held his ground, gripping to Mark tightly. His mouth was dry and he swallowed ineffectively. José was only looking at Fernando.

“Well?” José’s voice grew louder as his impatience rose. He took a few steps into the room and Mark instinctively moved so he was standing just in front of Fernando. José’s eyes moved from Fernando to Mark in disbelief. His anger grew. The frown on his face was setting. He was grinding his teeth down. He was furious. “I ask you a question, Fernando. You. Will. Answer. It.” José got closer to Fernando still, until he was standing in Ana’s original spot – his wife having moved to the edge of the room. Mark deliberately stood in front of Fernando so José knew it was on purpose. The Spanish man’s eyes flashed dangerously as his glare averted to Mark. “Move.” He spat. Mark shook his head. 

“Mark…” Fernando sighed against his back, letting himself deflate and resting his head on Mark. Mark linked their hands sending Fernando a silent message. Together.

“Move.” José said again, his voice wavering dangerously over out of control anger. Mark stood more firmly in front of Fernando. 

“Why?”

“Want to talk to my son.” José glared. Mark didn’t back down. 

“He’s right here. I don’t need to move for him to be able to hear you.” Mark couldn’t help but remember how José had lashed out the night before just because Fernando hadn’t cooperated. His cheek throbbed gently in the memory. Fernando hated this cowardly appearance. He knew Mark was just trying to be protective but he needed to do this. He needed to look his father in the eye and tell him. He stepped out beside Mark. Mark looked down at him curiously. 

“Is OK. You are here. We do this together.” Fernando smiled softly up at Mark and Mark reluctantly nodded, keeping a close eye on Fernando and José. Fernando looked to his father, inviting him to ask the question. José wasn’t looking at him, though; he was glaring at Mark and his linked hands. His head remained facing downwards but his eyes flicked up to Fernando, making him appear dark and evil. 

“What is this?” José asked darkly. Fernando swallowed.

“Mark and I…” his voice faded. The intense look from his father made it so hard to tell him, as if it was reducing him to a five-year-old being told of for leaving toy cars strewn around the house again. “Mark and I are…” Fernando looked at the floor. Mark squeezed Fernando’s hand encouragingly, looking down at him. Fernando lifted his chin and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes and looked directly at his father, Mark’s voice echoing in his head from all that time ago. Like a wax strip… “Mark and I are engaged and going to get married.” Fernando’s voice shook a little as he spoke, but he felt monumental relief as his words hit the air. Finally. Finally he had told his father. And he sighed, looking up at Mark and smiling. Mark emulated his smile and ran his thumb across the back of Fernando’s hand. “Mark and I are getting married.” Fernando smiled up at Mark, happiness and relief making him feel lighter than air. 

So when Mark suddenly crumpled to the floor and let go of his hand due to José’s fist taking a shinning to his cheek, Fernando wasn’t prepared. José’s fist flew down at Mark again and he gave a yelp of pain at the second harsh point of contact. Fernando dove forwards at his father to stop him but he was shaken off, sent staggering backwards as another fist made contact with Mark’s body. The Australian was trying to move out of his way by José was bearing down on him too quickly. He had no chance. 

“PAPA!” Fernando yelled, catching his father’s poised arm before it could swing down. José couldn’t hear him; he was yelling at Mark whilst still beating him, his leg sometimes replacing his fist making Mark flap around like an out-of-water fish. 

“YOU THINK YOU CAN COME INTO MY HOUSE AND MESS WITH MY SON’S HEAD? YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE HIM AWAY FROM HERE? FILL HIM WITH LIES TO GET YOURSELF OFF? IS THAT REALLY ALL YOU CARING ABOUT? USING HIM? YOU DON’T LOVE HIM AND HE DOESN’T LOVE YOU! HAVE JUST CONFUSED HIM WITH WORDS AND FALSE PROMISES! WILL NOT HAVE IT! YOU CORRUPTIVE WREACKAGE! WILL NOT HAVE YOU IN MY HOUSE OR ANYWHERE NEAR MY FAMILY AGAIN! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” Fernando’s cried were mingled in the air with his father’s yells. Tears burst from his eyes as he frantically tried to stop his Dad hitting Mark. A steady flow of blood was running from Mark’s nose and a little from his forehead due to a cut caused by José’s ring. 

“PAPA, PLEASE!” Fernando screamed, grabbing his father’s shoulder and forcing it backwards. José stumbled back a little and Fernando was panting hard, his face tear soaked and eyes blotchy. Without a pause, José threw his fist into Fernando and sent his son sprawling onto the floor before returning to Mark. 

“Fernando!” Mark called, reaching towards him. Fernando caught his cheek in his hands, an insane amount of pain rippling through his cheek. He looked up at his father ludicrously with wide eyes. Ana screamed at her husband in a babble of angry Spanish and José finally relented, turning to his wife and arguing back. Voices were raised and Fernando was starting to think that telling them about this was the worst idea in the world. He moved over to Mark, sitting him up against the fridge and cupping his face, worry and tears filling his eyes. Mark brushed his fingers on the red mark on Fernando’s cheek, looking into his eyes. “Are you OK?” Mark asked, evoking a small, watery smile from Fernando. 

“You are the one who gets beaten the shit out of and you ask me if am OK?” Fernando shook his head a little before the smile fell off his face and he started to examine Mark. José had stuck mainly to his face but Fernando knew there were bruises lying underneath his shirt. He wanted to take it of and check they were just bruises and nothing worse but right now that really wouldn’t help. “Hold still.” Fernando said softly as he got up and crossed the kitchen to the sink, wetting a bit of kitchen roll and taking some dry sheets before moving back over to Mark.

“Fuck…” Mark muttered as Fernando dabbed gently at the cut on his forehead. Pain shot through Fernando’s eyes and he felt sick. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t fair. He folded one of the dry sheets and cleaned Mark’s nose, feeling worse the more blood soaked into the white tissue. Mark was watching Fernando’s face as he tended to him. So when Fernando’s hand stopped briefly and his jaw locked – and remained so – Mark didn’t miss it. His eyes slid to the still arguing Ana and José, babbling still in Spanish, before they fell back on Fernando. “What are they saying?” Mark asked as Fernando cleaned the drying blood from his lips. A frown set on Fernando’s face.

“You do not want to hear…” Fernando muttered, his movement becoming a little less gentle. Mark stopped his hand by gripping his wrist. Fernando looked up into his eyes.

“Yes I do.” Mark said. Fernando sighed.

“Is trying to tell Mama that you have tricked me and this is all a sick little game you are playing. How you are no good for me and how he will not let this happen.” Fernando finished by indicating to the ring on his left hand. Mark ran a hand through his hair but caught the small cut on his forehead and cursed. Fernando dabbed it with the wet kitchen tissue lightly. 

“And she’s saying?”

“Not much at the moment, he is kind of just yelling over her… She is trying to get him to stop talking and listen but he will not.” Mark made to get up and Fernando panicked, grabbing his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“I told you I have some things I want to tell him.” Mark said, moving one of Fernando’s hands. Fernando put it straight back on his shoulder. 

“Is bad time, Mark. Do not do this now.” Fernando said. Mark went to open his mouth to argue but Fernando turned away from him, suddenly and towards his parents. Mark gripped onto his shoulder but Fernando shrugged him off, getting to his feet.

“What makes you think you understand anything between them? Have you asked them, José?” Ana yelled in Spanish, still fuming at her husband for hitting Fernando. And hitting Mark at that matter. They had never hit their children before… She definitely hadn’t, but after what she had just seen José do, she wasn’t sure she could say the same for him anymore. 

“We known our son, Ana,” José spat back in Spanish. “He does not just do this. He has girlfriends and wives and mistresses and whatever. I do not care if he slept with twelve woman at once!” 

“José-!”

“-No, Ana, I would prefer this than this drug-influenced crap that is going on now!”

“You really think he has drugged me?” Fernando said in Spanish, his hands balled into fists as he could barely look at his father. He really couldn’t just believe Mark and he were actually in love? There had to be some kind of influence that made Fernando do these ‘crazy’ things? José turned on him, away from Ana.

“He has done something to you to make you want to marry him, Fernando! This isn’t normal! It’s not happening!”

“It is.” Fernando said bluntly, folding his arms. José took a step towards him and Mark pulled himself to his feet, still holding a tissue against his nose. He eyed José wearily, not comfortable with how far away from Fernando he was and how he wasn’t close enough to step in the way if he needed to. 

“Not to a member of my family.” José snarled. Ana was on the verge of tears just off his shoulder. Fernando glared at his father. Mark balled the tissue in his hand, sensing the trickle from his nose had stopped. 

“Guess I am not part of this family then.” 

“If you are still going to marry-” José stopped talking and sent Mark a look of disgust. 

“I am.-”

“-Then I guess not.”

“José!” Ana said, bursting forwards. Mark hated not knowing what they were saying. This was hard enough without being able to stand with Fernando and help him. Mark moved next to his fiancée. “Fernando, do not listen to him. You will always be part of this family. Do not listen to him. I will not let him kick you out. You are our son and we are proud of you and will support you in everything you do.”

“He is not my son.” José glared viciously. Fernando deliberately pulled Mark’s arms around him, settling them on his hips. He did it for two reasons: one, to make the point to his father that he was still going to marry Mark irrelevant to what he thought and two, because he felt he was fading away and needed something to remind him he still belonged somewhere. Mark tightened his grip as if he could read this from Fernando’s skin.

“José, do not be ridiculous. This is stupid.” Ana shot.

“You are being stupid if you think I can be this thing’s father. This is not what was agreed. This was never going to happen.”

“This thing’s?” Fernando asked, his voice failing him and breaking halfway through the sentence. Ana made to move over to him but José stopped her. 

“I do not know what you are anymore, but you have no place in this house.” José spat, keeping his arm in front of Ana. A dreadful silence fell across the room which was broken by the shuddering of the kitchen door being thrown open. Everyone looked at the door to see Lorena stamp in, dropping Mark and Fernando’s bags on the floor as she did. She stood next to Fernando.

“How dare you!” She screamed in Spanish at her father. Mark recoiled slightly from her abrupt and loud tone. “He is still my brother and I will defend him until the day I die!”

“He is not your brother, Lorena, and I don’t want you speaking like that to me. I have every right to say what I want to who I want in my house and no little woman will stop me.” José’s voice grew louder as he spoke. 

“Little woman?” Lorena shot placing her hands on her hips. “You are so stuck in the past, Papa, you cannot see the future has evolved. They are in love! Why can you not just see that?”

“Because they are not, Lorena,” José said, catching her arm and dragging her to stand next to her mother. “He has obviously tricked you like he has tricked Fernando.” He turned from his daughter to his son, glaring again. “If Fernando cannot see it I will get great joy out of seeing him destroy his life.”

“Destroy my life!” Fernando spat, breaking from Mark’s hold. It was unintentional, but anger was flowing through his veins and he took an involuntary step forwards towards his family. “You do not have a fucking clue, Papa!”

“How dare you use that language in front of your mother!” José roared, moving closer to Fernando. 

“Fuck you! I do not give a fuck! I do not care what you think or who you are or about honor or respect and why should I if I do not get the same!” 

“Why should you get the same if you do not deserve it.” José stated. Fernando grew angrier and barely even noticed Mark was standing right behind him. 

“You bigot! Get out of the past, Papa, because the world is changing! And am changing with it! I will marry Mark and I will take his name. Then you will not have to worry about me being part of this family!”

“Fernando!” Lorena gasped, consoling Ana who had broken into tears. Fernando didn’t look at her. José swung for Fernando again but Mark catching it stopped his fist. He roared and incoherent word before turning away and hitting the wall. Mark turned to Fernando and held both of his shoulders. Fernando’s chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths. Mark could still feel his anger radiating off him. 

“Get out of my house.” José murmured. Lorena shook her head frantically but Fernando just stood, glaring at his father. 

“What did he say?” Mark asked softly, trying to calm Fernando down. It didn’t. If anything Fernando grew angrier, his jaw locking and his nails cutting crescent-moon shapes into his palms.

“He wants us out.” Fernando spat in English. Mark looked over to José who was leaning on the work surface with his back to them. 

“José, I just want to-” Mark started, but he shouldn’t have. 

“-GET OUT!” José roared in English, pointing to the door and glaring at Mark. Fernando linked their hands together and pulled Mark towards the kitchen door, picking up the bags as he did. Mark took one last fleeting look at the room before turning and following Fernando out, still being towed along by his fiancée.

“Fernando, please!” Lorena called from behind them. Fernando didn’t stop. He kept moving and threw open the front door. 

“Lorena! Come back here this instant!” José called as Lorena dashed from the kitchen in pursuit of her brother. Fernando unlocked his Ferrari and threw Mark and his bags in the boot as Lorena made it to the front door. 

“Fernando, please! Come back!”

“Am not going anywhere near him!” Fernando shot, slamming the boot and moving towards the driver’s door. 

“Mark! Please!” Lorena begged as her mother joined her by the door. Mark sighed as Fernando climbed into the car. He opened the passenger door. 

“I’m sorry, Lorena. I really am.” Mark said as he climbed into the car and shut the door. Muffles of Ana and Lorena’s shouts could be heard but Fernando wasn’t listening. He started up the car and reversed off the drive. Mark’s stomach dropped, as he looked over at the door of the house to see Lorena angrily shouting and Ana crying in her arms. José stood just behind them. Fernando sped off leaving the wrecked image of his family behind. Mark looked over at him to see his knuckles were white, gripping tightly to the steering wheel. Their speed was increasing as they headed through the winding country-roads. Mark watched the speed gauge. Forty-six. Fifty-four. Sixty-two. Sixty-nine. Seventy-five. Eighty-four. Ninety-three. 

“Fernando, slow down.” Mark tried, his eyes flipping from the speed gauge to the road. 

“How dare he. Who does he think he is? Telling me what I am and who I should be. Is wrong. I do not give a fuck about what he thinks.” Fernando seethed, still increasing their speed. Fernando took the bend in the road as if it were a racetrack, swinging the arse of the car out. Mark swallowed. Ninety-one. Ninety-eight. One hundred and two.

“Fernando, I know you’re annoyed but you need to slow down.”

“Am fine.” Fernando spat, his eyes glaring at the road. Mark gripped the seat tighter. One hundred and six. One hundred and fourteen. 

“We’re not on a fucking race circuit, Fernando! You’re angry, you’re not thinking straight. Slow the fucking car down!” Mark yelled, panic invading his voice. Fernando broke suddenly jolting them both forwards and eventually bringing the car to a stop. He turned on Mark. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, Mark. Have had enough of that today.” Fernando spat, turning to face him. Mark sighed.

“Fernando, please, just-”

“-Calm down? Calm down? Do not fucking tell me to calm down, Mark.”

“You just need to not speed off like a lunatic, Fernando! I get it, you’re angry-”

“-You do not get it, Mark. You have parents who are happy for you. Mine hate me!”

“They don’t hate you, Fernando.”

“They do.” There was a small pause where Fernando turned back to look out at the road. “Papa does.”

“What does that-” Mark stopped himself. Of course it mattered that Fernando’s parents weren’t being supportive. That mattered so much; Mark didn’t know how he would have got through the last three years without his parent’s support. But Fernando got where his comment was going and glared over at him.

“Like I said. You do not get it. Everything is easy for you.”

“Easy?”

“Do not act like it is not, Mark.” Fernando seethed, turning back to the road. He revved the engine, making Mark turn to face him in his seat. 

“Fernando-”

“-Just trust me, Mark.” Fernando spat as he put his foot to the floor and they sped back down the road. Mark hated this. Hated this Fernando who had no rational thoughts. He wanted happy, cuddly Fernando back who wouldn’t be so stupid to risk their lives to try and forget about the shit that was this morning.

“Fernando, please.” Mark begged, his eyes taking in the one-hundred and seventeen reading off the speed gauge. He couldn’t look out of the window as the scenery was flying past to fast and made him feel sick. He watched Fernando’s face: concentrated and angry. Mark would have touched his arm if he weren’t in fear of his action making Fernando react and swerve. Hitting something at this speed was not going to be pretty. Bend after bend Fernando threw the car round, swinging Mark backwards and forwards in his seat. “This is ridiculous, Fernando, you’re going to get us killed!” Mark spat as Fernando came too close to a car going the other way. Fernando’s shoulders dropped and his anger was instantly replaced with a crushing sadness. 

Until we’re old and grey.

Mark’s expression softened as Fernando brought the car to an appropriate speed and continued on the way home. Mark wanted to say something, but a thank you seemed too condescending. He just watched Fernando as the harsh etched frown fell from his face and his breathing stammered letting silent tears roll down his face. Mark wanted so badly to comfort him but he couldn’t bring himself to. He just watched as Fernando drove them back to his house in silence. 

“Fernando.” Mark said as they pulled up in his driveway. Fernando didn’t answer. He climbed out of the car and headed to the front door. Mark sighed as he followed him out, collecting their bags from the boots. Once Fernando knew Mark was behind him he locked the car and opened the door, taking the bags from him and moving through the house quickly. Mark shut the front door following in Fernando’s wake. When he got to the top of the stairs and was confronted by Fernando’s door being almost closed he deflated, sliding down the wall. Mark didn’t know what to do. He wanted to comfort Fernando but he didn’t know what to say. And he wasn’t sure if Fernando even wanted to talk to him. His brain gave him the only answer he could see was suitable and he got off the floor, pulling his phone out of his pocket and moving out to the balcony.

\- - -

“Tell me where his parents live.” Alan shot down the phone as Mark finished re-telling the story of the morning. Mark frowned. 

“What? Why?”

“Just tell me, Mark. This guy needs a talking to.”

“Are you fucking serious, Dad?” Mark scoffed. “I don’t think that’s going to help matters.”

“It’s so fucking stupid though! If people could just accept-!”

“-I know, Dad… I know.” Mark sighed, his eyes finding the closed door Fernando was behind again. He just didn’t know what to do. Mark really wanted to know what had been exchanged in Spanish, maybe then the reason José kicked them out and Fernando was stupidly angry would make sense. He couldn’t stand this separation. He sighed. 

“What are you going to do, son?” Alan asked down the phone, making Mark laugh softly. 

“I’m sure that’s why I called you.” Mark said.

“But you already knew I wasn’t going to be able to help, didn’t you? You called me because you didn’t have anyone else to talk to about this.”

“This is really shit, Dad.” Mark said, running his hand through his hair again.

“I don’t know what to say to you.”

“Really helpful.” Mark muttered sarcastically.

“Hey. Don’t get shitty, Mark.” His father cooed gently. 

“Sorry.” There was a pause where neither man knew what to say next. Mark just wanted this to have never happened. His eye throbbed painfully along with his side where José had kicked him. Everything that had happened… He just wanted to forget the whole thing. 

“You’ve got to talk to him. You think how you feel. He doesn’t have anyone else to talk to. You’ve got us and Annie but he’s only got you.” Alan said eventually. Mark nodded, knowing his Dad was right. It came with the horrible reminiscence of Fernando’s words from earlier… You do not get it. Everything is easy for you.The words ripped through him and pushed him to his feet. He opened the balcony door.

“Thanks, Dad. I’m going to go now.” Mark said, crossing into the house.

“Alright son. Everything will be alright. Just… Help him. Even if he doesn’t want it now he really does and he needs it.” Mark nodded again, knowing his Dad would know he was even if he couldn’t be seen. 

“Yes… Thanks…” Mark said sheepishly, hovering outside Fernando’s door. 

“Speak to you soon, Mark. If you feel like accidently telling me where Fernando’s Dad lives…”

“See you later, Dad.” Mark smiled, hanging up. Alan could always make the worse situations bearable. And there he was doing it again: making Mark smile when his whole world was crashing. He pushed his phone into his pocket and took a deep breath, tentatively knocking on the door. “Fernando?” He called softly, pushing on the panel of wood. Mark poked his head around the frame and his eyes fell onto his bag that was strewn in a pile. He frowned at it. He moved into the room and found Fernando’s bag beside his, still packed. As he knelt down to look through his now pile of stuff, he thought back to Fernando. Looking up to the bed, where he expected to see him, panic shot through Mark as he realised Fernando wasn’t there.

He stood and turned in the middle of the room, trying to work out where Fernando could have gone. He was sure Fernando had come to his room. Positive because the bags were here. Mark’s breathing picked up as he began stupidly throwing drawers and cupboards open as if expecting Fernando to be hiding. As he crossed past the closed door of the en suite he heard it: the pattering of water. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked over to the door. Another deep breath. Mark took a firm grasp on the door handle and turned it, pushing the door inwards slowly. No steam of hot air or condensation could be seen as the door granted him access to the room. Mark stepped around the door and his eyes fell on Fernando. He let out a breath as he moved through the room to the shower and looked down at him, sitting under the spray. He was fully clothed and had one of Mark’s jackets on, which was now soaked through. At least that explained the reason behind his bag being tipped out. 

As Mark climbed into the shower with Fernando he felt the cold temperature of the water and saw Fernando shivering. He turned the dial on the wall to shut off the water and saw that Fernando had just kept turning the dial until it stopped. Unintentional or not, Mark didn’t know. He grabbed a fluffy towel from the towel rack and returned to Fernando, wrapping it round his shoulders and sitting next to him. Fernando’s eyes had glazed over and he was staring at a spot on the floor. As Mark wrapped his arm around his shoulder and brought him closer Fernando sighed and relaxed into him. For a little while, they just sat together at the bottom of the shower. Mark rubbed slowly up and down Fernando’s arm.

“What were you doing in here?” Mark asked softly, brushing some damp strands of Fernando’s hair out of his face to stop them dripping on him. Fernando sighed. 

“Needed a shower…” He said, curling closer to Mark.

“You’ve still got your clothes on.” Mark commented. 

“I forgot to take them off…” Fernando let his eyes close as he curled himself into Mark’s lap, transferring water from his sodden shirt onto Mark’s. 

“But you thought you’d put my jacket on first.” Mark smiled softly as Fernando pushed himself closer. 

“You didn’t come through… I…” 

“It’s alright, bub, I understand.” Mark felt horrible instantly. He felt like he’d put his own interests first. He’d forgotten Fernando had no one else to talk to and just abandoned him to talk with his Dad. 

“Sorry…” Fernando said, nuzzling into Mark’s neck. Mark gave a small laugh. 

“For?” He asked softly.

“Getting your jacket wet… For my… Father beating you up…”

“Hey now, don’t worry about that. He was just upset.”

“Do not want to talk about it.” Fernando sighed, kissing Mark’s neck softly. Mark moved away from his lips and looked down at him. 

“Not now, mate. You need to talk about this.” Mark said. Fernando sighed, curling back into him. 

“Cold.” Fernando complained, shivering slightly. Mark got up. 

“That’s what happens when you sit under freezing water.” He smiled, setting the temperature dial to one that was warm but not too hot. He didn’t want to send Fernando’s body into shock. “Get those wet clothes off and warm up, yeah?” Mark asked softly. Fernando nodded and began pulling his items of clothing off. Mark put them all in a pile on the floor and started the water running for Fernando as he stood under the shower jet. “Have a wash, mate. I’ll be back in a moment.” Mark smiled, leaving Fernando to shower as he went to hang the sodden clothes on the balcony so the Spanish sun could dry them off. He also put his own shirt and jeans on the rail with Fernando’s before returning to the bathroom in his boxers. Fernando had just finished washing his hair when Mark returned and invited him to join him. Mark shook his head. 

“It’s alright, you’re nearly done now. I’ll come in after.” Mark smiled and Fernando nodded, feeling numb and in need of instruction. Once he was done Mark handed him a dry fluffy towel, one of Mark’s hoodies and the purple/blue pyjama bottoms from Korea. Fernando smiled softly as he dried himself and changed and Mark had a quick shower. Both changed and clean, Mark into another pair of jeans and a plain shirt, they retired to Fernando’s bedroom and settled on the bed. Fernando curled into Mark and sighed contently. 

“How is your Dad?” Fernando asked in a tone that let Mark know he knew that was where he went. Mark swallowed.

“He’s good. Told me to look after you.” Mark said, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. Fernando sighed happily. 

“Good…” It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the day and they were already ready for bed. Fernando couldn’t think of anything better to be doing with today. He just wanted to stay in Mark’s arms and relax, forget the hurtful things his father had thrown at him. 

“I’m sorry.” Mark said. Fernando sat up and frowned at him.

“Why?”

“I left you to talk to him… I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Is not a problem, Mark. You obviously needed to.” Fernando said, brushing his hand up his cheek and holding his face with a small smile. Mark sat up, still feeling bad. 

“Yeah, but I have others I can talk to… You don’t. I should have thought of you first.”

“Is fine, Mark.” Fernando laughed. Mark still shook his head. He sat Fernando in front of him and wrapped his legs around him, pushing his hair out of his face. Fernando smiled softly at Mark as he held his cheek.

“How are you?” Mark asked sincerely. Fernando blushed a little.

“Am fine.” Fernando smiled. Mark exasperated.

“Fernando, please. You’ve got to talk to me. You can’t keep shutting me out.”

“Am not shutting you out, Mark.”

“You are, Fer.”

“Am not!”

“Then tell me how you’re feeling.” Mark said, his hands falling away from Fernando. Fernando didn’t want to talk about this. He wanted to forget it, move on. Why was Mark so determined? He glared over at Mark who just sat patiently with his arms folded. He wasn’t going to give up. Fernando may be the more stubborn of the two but Mark was good and holding his ground. Fernando sighed. 

“This is shit.”

“I know, but I just want to help you. You will feel better if you just talk to me about this. If you don’t we will have a repeat of Maranello and I don’t think either of us want to revisit that.” Mark touched Fernando’s knee soothingly. “Please.”

“I just feel alone.” Fernando said, playing with the duvet and looking at his hands. “And I know this is stupid because I have you and am not alone but I do… I just feel like no one can understand me…”

“That’s Ok. And normal. When I first realised I couldn’t even tell my parents because I was so afraid of what they might say or do. I felt alone too, before they knew. Dad worked it out… I think he knew for a while if I am honest. He wasn’t so shocked but I could tell he was disappointed. That was the worst feeling…”

“Yes. And you feel like nothing you can do can make it good enough or better?”

“Exactly. Mum wouldn’t even talk to me. I pushed myself away but Dad dragged me back… Or them forwards, whichever way you want to look at it.” There was a pause where Mark just watched Fernando, looking for some sign that he understood Mark had some understanding of how he was feeling. Fernando continued to look at his hands.

“I just left…” Fernando sighed. Mark took hold of his hands. 

“It was the best thing to do. Everyone needed to calm down.”

“But Lorena was angry… Mama could not even look at me…”

“Fernando, it will all be fine. Lorena was happy for us and your Mum seemed to be too before your Dad came in. They just need time to calm down and understand what’s happening. It’s a big change for everyone.”

“They will hate me for leaving…” Mark gave a breathy laugh as he pulled Fernando into his embrace. Fernando clutched the back of his shirt tightly. 

“They don’t hate you, Fernando. They’ll never hate you.” Mark placed a kiss on the top of his head as Fernando curled closer to him. 

“Papa hates me…”

“That might take a little bit more time.” Mark nuzzled at Fernando’s hair. Fernando smiled at Mark’s comment, feeling light and content. Nothing else felt like it would be worth doing now. Right now, at this moment, lying with Mark and feeling safe and warm was all he wanted to do. Mark felt Fernando fall slightly heavier in his arms and noted his breathing become softer and slower. He smiled as he laid Fernando down, brushing the hair out of his face and looking down at the perfection of his sleeping face. He stroked Fernando’s cheek, loving the way the sleeping man adjusted to get closer to him. Mark placed a kiss on his forehead before climbing off the bed and moving over to his bag. He pulled out a pen and some paper, scribbling a note to Fernando letting him know he had gone:

Fernando,   
I’ve gone to the shop to get us something special for tonight.  
– No arguments, I’m cooking.  
Just stay in bed, relax, I shouldn’t be too long.  
I love you so much.  
Text me if you want me.  
Mark xxx

He moved back across the room and put the note under Fernando’s hand so he knew he would find it and not worry when he woke up. He placed another kiss on Fernando’s forehead before forcing himself to leave the room and promising he would be as quick as he could. He took Fernando’s keys, knowing he wouldn’t need them as he pulled on his shoes and left the house. 

He was going to walk. He didn’t need to take a car. He didn’t think the shops were that far away. He was going to walk. So when he found himself sat in the driver’s seat of Fernando’s Ferrari he found it very difficult to remember what the perks of walking were. And the car just asked to be driven. Mark slowly slid his hands around the steering wheel, taking in what the car had to offer. He’d pulled the door closed before he knew it. Fernando wouldn’t mind, right? This is why you should have taken a job at Ferrari, Mark. He chastened himself as he turned on the engine, letting the roar run through him. He gave a look back to the house and the window he knew was Fernando’s bedroom. In the car, you can be much quicker. Mark justified as he pulled on his belt and adjusted the seat and mirrors. He tried not to move too much and was happy that he could use the mirrors as they were. The seat, however, had to move; Mark had longer legs than Fernando. Thirty minutes. Mark said, giving the house one last look before he pulled off the drive. 

\- - -

Two and a half hours! Two and a half hours! Mark couldn’t believe how long it had taken him to get to the shops, get some food and get back to Fernando’s. It didn’t help that he got lost on the way to the shops. He was sure Fernando had turned right the last time Mark had been here. But obviously he hadn’t. Going right led Mark down a series of winding roads he didn’t recognize. At first it was fun, enjoying the perfect performance of the car, feeling in control of the speed it gave so easily. It got to the point where Mark realised he had been driving for thirty minutes and got nowhere. Eventually he had found the shops but he didn’t know that it was apparently the day everyone in Spain had tried to get to the shops. He got continuously angrier with the slow moving shoppers with the tantrum-throwing children and loud phone discussions in a language he couldn’t understand as he checked his phone every couple of minutes to check Fernando hadn’t tried to get hold of him.

When he finally made it back to Fernando’s he made himself sit in the car for a few minutes and calm down. Fernando didn’t need him in a foul mood and that wouldn’t be fair. He let himself in the house with a simple turn of the key and put the food away in the kitchen. Mark moved through the house, checking the front room, home gym and pool before deciding, if Fernando was awake, he had taken Mark’s advice and actually stayed in bed. Mark was a little surprised at that fact though and was even more surprised when he was proved right and saw Fernando lying, relaxed, on his bed with his arms curled around a pillow watching the television. Mark pulled out his phone and Fernando paused the television, frowning at him. 

“What are you doing?” Fernando asked with a smile. Mark took four pictures of his fiancée relaxing in bed before answering. 

“Evidence.” Mark said, turning his phone on the side to catch the television in the picture as well. “Smile.” 

“Why?”

“I’m taking a photo.”

“See this but why?”

“I need evidence.”

“For what?”

“So next time you tell me that you can’t just sit around and do nothing I can prove to you you’re lying.” Mark smiled, taking more photos. His charade was stopped when a pillow hit his face and he put his phone away, smiling over at Fernando. “Ow.”

“Are not funny.” Fernando said, trying to sound serious but a smile broke onto his face and ruined that. Mark crawled across the bed and kissed him with a smile. Fernando wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck, deepening the kiss and bringing Mark on top of him. Mark pulled away to a small, disappointed moan from Fernando. He kissed his nose and sighed happily. 

“How long have you been away?” Mark asked. Fernando looked over his shoulder at the alarm clock. 

“About two hours.” Mark sighed, annoyed at himself. He kissed Fernando again. 

“Sorry. I blame Spanish people.”

“Hey.” Fernando hit his shoulder in jest, smiling up at Mark. “What did we do?”

“All decided to go shopping today.” Mark smirked. Fernando rolled his eyes. 

“Is Ok. I got your note.” Fernando said, holding up the folded piece of paper. Mark took it from him, going to tear it, not being able to think of any use for it anymore. “No!” Fernando snatched it back. Mark blinked at Fernando with a little frown as he put the note back on his side table. Mark waited for him to return back under him to raise an eyebrow at him. “Want to keep it.”

“Why? It’s just a note telling you where I went.” Mark said, not able to understand why Fernando would want the pointless piece of paper. 

“Does it really matter?”

“No… I’m just curious.”

“Is the first note you have left me… And I like what you wrote…” Fernando blushed. Mark smiled and kissed him again. Fernando’s arms wrapped around Mark’s neck and his fingers wound into his hair, pulling him closer. Mark broke them apart momentarily. 

“You’re fucking amazing.” Mark smiled, claiming Fernando’s lips again. Mark lowered his body slowly on top of Fernando’s and felt his hum of pleasure echo through his mouth. He smiled, running his hands down Fernando’s body and feeling him shiver below him. One of Fernando’s hands ran down Mark’s back, pulling him closer onto his body. One of Fernando’s legs ran up the back of Mark’s until it was curled around his waist. Mark sucked gently on Fernando’s bottom lip and rolled onto his side, pulling Fernando with him. He lent on something but it didn’t hold place in his mind as Fernando unhooked his leg and pulled at the hem of Mark’s shirt. Sudden gunshots made Mark jump and break away from Fernando sitting up quickly. Fernando burst into laughter, folding over and clutching his stomach, as Mark tried to calm his breathing, staring at him ludicrously. 

“What?” Mark asked as Fernando fought for breath. Fernando lent across Mark and picked up the remote, pointing it at the television and pausing it. Mark turned and looked at the close up of the blonde haired man that Fernando had just paused and then back to Fernando. “I lent on the remote.” Mark sighed with a smile. Fernando laughed at him again before climbing on his lap and stealing his lips for a gentle kiss. Mark’s hands fell to Fernando’s hips as they broke apart, both sighing happily. “I love you, Fer.”

“Te amo…” Fernando sighed, leaning back into Mark. Mark held onto him, his eyes falling back on the television screen.

“So what is it you’re watching?” Mark said as Fernando laid back down on the bed, replacing the pillow he had been hugging with Mark. Fernando rested his head on Mark’s torso. 

“Is Lost.” Fernando sighed. 

“That’s the one with the plane crash, right?” Mark asked. Fernando sat up quickly and looked at him as if he were insane. 

“You have not seen it?” Mark shook his head. Fernando got off him, shaking his head and moving over to the television. Mark frowned at him. 

“What?”

“You need to watch it. Is so good.” Fernando said, taking one DVD out of the television and putting it back in it’s box. Mark still frowned at him. 

“Right… Need?”

“Yes, Mark.” Fernando put a different DVD in the television and moved back over to the bed, collecting the remote. 

“We’re watching it now?” Mark confirmed and Fernando nodded. Mark kissed his temple. “Alright, you set it up and I’ll go make lunch.” Without leaving Fernando time to argue, Mark left the bed and moved down to the kitchen. He just made them sandwiches for lunch with some picky bits to go with it: crisps, popcorn, dips, and biscuits with a small selection of bottled drinks in a plastic bag. He brought the tray up to Fernando with a secret surprise in his back pocket. Fernando had re-arranged the bed so the pillows were resting against the headboard and he smiled as Mark re-entered the room. Mark placed the food on the edge of the bed and straightened up. Fernando patted the bed next to him for Mark to join him but Mark just stood still. Fernando frowned a little. 

“Don’t be mad.” Mark started. Fernando made to get up, rolling his eyes. 

“What did you do?” Fernando sighed.

“Nothing. Well, no, nothing to the kitchen.” Fernando stopped mid-way in getting up and frowned at him. “The kitchen is fine.” Mark clarified and Fernando settled back down on the bed. 

“Then why would I be mad?”

“Because I know how strict you are with yourself but I got it for a treat. We’ll go for an extra long run or two bike rides tomorrow to compensate.” Mark offered. Fernando folded his arms, raising and eyebrow at him. 

“What is this ‘treat’, Mark?” Mark gave Fernando his best puppy-dog eyes as he pulled the two bars of Black and Green’s chocolate from his back pocket. Fernando’s face remained unchanged. 

“Please?”

“You may eat these, yes.”

“No, Fernando, us. To share. It’s just one little treat.” Mark climbed onto the bed and staying on all fours, moved across to Fernando. “I want you to relax…” Mark sat on his heels and dragged his empty hand up Fernando’s leg. “And be calm…” Mark shuffled slightly closer so his knees brushed Fernando’s leg. “No rules, no regulations…” Mark lent in close to Fernando so their faces were a few inches apart. Fernando’s arms hand fallen away and his lips had parted slightly, releasing his ragged breath. “No Formula One diets or thinking. Just us being here as if we were old and grey and couldn’t give a fuck if we had floppy bellies.” Mark smiled as Fernando’s eyes shone. For once, Mark had won an eating debate. Fernando pushed his lips together as a smile forced its way onto his lips. His hands found the nape of Mark’s neck. 

“Will always care if I have a floppy belly.” Fernando corrected.

“You’ll never have a floppy belly.” Mark said, letting his fingers slid beneath the hoodie Fernando was still wearing and run along his hard structured abs. “Please.” Mark kissed his cheek slowly. 

“On one condition.” Fernando sighed and Mark sat back on his heels.

“Anything, bub.”

“Change so you look like you are going to stay in bed all day?” Fernando smiled and Mark gave him a fleeting kiss before he climbed off the bed. He picked his pyjamas out from his pile of clothes and headed to the bathroom. Fernando cleared his throat. “Here.” Fernando pointed to the floor in front of him and he laid down on his stomach, propping up on his elbows and holding his chin with his hands. He lifted his legs at his knees and crossed them in mid air. Mark smirked as he crossed back into the room. 

“You want me to strip for you?”

“No. You saw me change earlier, now you return the favor.” Fernando smiled cutely. Mark kissed his nose before he moved away from him and undid his jeans, pulling them down his legs. His shirt came next and Fernando couldn’t help but stare at his bare torso, his eyes trailing every muscle. Mark bent down to collect his pyjama bottoms, making the light material of his boxers taunt across his arse. Fernando hummed happily as Mark smirked and began pulling his pyjamas on. “What are you doing?” Fernando asked as he pulled the long, red material to his knees. Mark looked over to him. 

“Changing.”

“Since when do you wear boxers to bed?” Fernando said, pointing at his arse. Mark blushed slightly. “Do it properly or no chocolate.” Fernando smiled. Mark narrowed his eyes in jest as he pulled the pyjama trousers off and hooked his thumbs under the elastic waistband of his boxers. He turned his back to Fernando as he let them drop, feeling like he was being scrutinized due to the way Fernando was watching him. He still heard Fernando make a happy noise as the light material fell to the floor and he stepped out of it. He pulled the red pyjamas back onto his legs and slipped a hoodie on to keep his torso warm, zipping it up. He turned around and moved back over to the bed. 

“Better?” Mark asked, tearing the wrapper of the first bar of chocolate. He broke off a small piece as Fernando brushed his thighs with his fingertips, trailing up to the zip of Mark’s hoodie and undoing it, letting a palm press into his skin. His fingers lightly traced the small bruise on Mark’s side before Fernando smiled up at him. Mark held out the first piece of chocolate and Fernando took it from Mark’s hand and swallowed it happily. 

“Much. Now you will be more comfortable to snuggle on.” Fernando smiled, taking a sandwich off the plate. They set up their little picnic at the top of the bed and got themselves comfortable, Mark’s arms draped subconsciously around Fernando’s shoulder as they fed each other food. Fernando took hold of the remote and started the first episode off, moving closer to Mark under his arm. Mark placed a gentle kiss on the side of his head before relaxing back against the headboard and watching the television.

This was perfect. And Mark knew he would be happy to spend the rest of his life just doing this. 

\- - -

Fernando yawned as he snuggled closer to Mark. He pressed his palm into the bare skin he was laying on and drew circles with his finger. The day had ended perfectly. Mark made chicken breast and spaghetti for dinner but he had marinated the chicken in different herbs and sauces and Fernando couldn’t get enough of it. It was late now, and after such a long day Fernando welcomed the pull of sleep. His eyes shut for a moment and Mark rubbed his thumb across the top of Fernando’s shoulder soothingly. Fernando looked down at his engagement ring on his hand laying on Mark before closing his eyes with a smile.

“Good night, Mark…” Fernando sighed happily. No reply came. Fernando opened his eyes and frowned a little. He looked up at Mark to see he had both of his headphones in and was mouthing along with whatever he was listening to. Fernando sat up a little and Mark smiled at him. He pulled one of Mark’s headphones out and moved it to listen himself. He caught the muffled sound of a man talking before it was paused. 

“You alright? Want to talk about something?” Mark said softly, his palm pressed to the image on the top of Fernando’s back. Fernando shook his head. 

“I say good night and you did not reply.” Fernando said. Mark sat up a little. 

“Sorry.” Mark sighed, bringing Fernando closer and kissing him. Fernando lent back.

“Is Ok.” He smiled. “What are you listening to?”

“Just some race analysis Porsche sent me from last season. I thought you were asleep.”

“Am going now.” Fernando yawned, laying back down on Mark. Mark went back to rubbing his arm as he curled around his side. 

“Night, Fernando.”

“Good night, Mark.” Fernando smiled as Mark started their little night-routine. There was a small pause Mark always left before he finished and Fernando waited with his eyes open.

“Love you.”

“Te amo.” Fernando sighed, relaxing deep into Mark. Mark continued to rub Fernando’s arm in a soothing manner watching the top of Fernando’s head rise and fall on his stomach as he breathed. Once he was sure Fernando was asleep, the softening of his breathing and the little twitches of his fingers giving him away, Mark put the second headphone back in his ear and pressed play again, resuming his lesson. The fourth of the lessons he’d been listening since just before they left for Spain…

Do you have a telephone I can use? 

The man’s voice was soon replaced by the woman’s. 

¿Tiene un teléfono que pueda usar? 

“¿Tiene un teléfono que pueda usar?” Mark whispered into the room. Five times. Five times and then they would move on. Mark looked down at Fernando, imagining his face when Mark could ask for something in Spanish or could translate something he said when he went off on one of his little rants. That’s what kept him listening to the Spanish woman, repeating the words five times. The image of happiness he could see on Fernando’s face in his minds eye. Even though sometimes he just couldn’t see a purpose to the hard work this was going to be, Fernando was his purpose. Mark’s fingers hovered over the lesson he had downloaded earlier that day… Weddings: Words for the Bride and Groom.

Fernando was his purpose.


	33. Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.”   
> ~Sam Keen~

When Mark woke up the next morning – with his headphones still in his ears but not playing anything because his phone had run out of battery – he was surprised to find himself alone. The warmth of a second body in the bed had gone a while ago, as there was no aftermath left on his skin. The covers had also been thrown back on one side, covering him in double the amount of material. He fought with the tangling sheets and somehow got himself off the bed. Albeit tumbling onto the floor with the white material clinging to his leg. He sighed as he got up and disconnected himself. He threw the sheets back onto the bed and arranged it so it looked almost neat.

“Fernando?” Mark called, moving round the bed. He looked out of the window to see if Fernando had gone for a run. He couldn’t see him. He was just hit by the heat of the warm sun of his bare chest. Mark smiled, letting it seep into his skin, before he turned back to the room. He crossed to the bathroom. 

“Fernando?” He asked, giving the door two soft knocks. He let himself in but the room was also empty. Mark frowned, yawning widely, as he moved back into the bedroom. “Fernan-?” Mark stopped mid-call as he saw the mug on his side table. He crossed to it, looking down at it’s still full contents and stuck his finger into the sand-coloured liquid. Cold. Dreadfully so. It had obviously been sitting there for a while. Mark smiled as he collected the black hoddie from the side and pulled it on, taking the mug of tea and leaving the room. 

As Mark opened the bedroom door, a delicious smell infiltrated his senses and he knew he was right in guessing Fernando had gone to the kitchen. It wasn’t a breakfast smell, though… Too sweet. Mark could hear Fernando singing a soft tune with Spanish lyrics, being able to understand a few of the words. Something about red and blue. Mark wasn’t too sure, but every now and then he would pick up on a word he could understand. He smiled to himself as he descended the stairs, letting Fernando’s voice fill his head. Gently and calm. There was something very domestic about it. As quietly as he could, Mark pushed the door open and let himself in. 

Fernando didn’t stop what he was doing when Mark entered the room. Mark smiled at his back and placed the mug on the side, leaning against it and folding his arms. Fernando was making something, his focus intently on the soft, swirling mixture in front of him. It smelt fantastic. Mark noted there was also something already in the oven; the thing emitting that gorgeous smell. Fernando continued to stir what Mark assumed correctly was cake mix as he changed from singing to humming. He put a finger in the mixture to taste it, making a happy humming noise of approval. 

“I didn’t think you ate cake?” Mark smiled from his position at the edge of the kitchen. Fernando visibly flinched, due to being made jump, and turned to face Mark, putting the spoon down and smiling. Fernando leans against the work surface, with his arms behind him, looking at Mark.

“Not for me.” Fernando smiled softly, looking at Mark with innocent eyes. Mark crossed to him, trapping him against the side by placing his arms either side of him. Fernando smiled up at him. There was flour on his cheek. Mark brushed it away lightly with his hand, feeling Fernando’s breathing stutter in front of him. 

“You put that there on purpose?” Mark smirked. Fernando looked at him with a small, confused frown. 

“Put what?” Fernando asked, reaching up to touch his cheek. Mark grabbed his wrist. 

“There was flour on your cheek.” Mark said softly. Fernando blushed a little, dropping his head. Mark made him look back up with a soft finger under his chin. He pushed himself closer to Fernando to catch his lips in a slow, delicate kiss, catching the Spaniard’s bottom lips between both of his own. Mark pulled back slightly and sighed happily. “Buenos dias.” Mark smiled, slipping into Spanish. Fernando leaned back against the counter sheepishly. 

“Good morning.” Replied Fernando, apparently unaware of Mark’s language change. 

“So this is why I didn’t get a wake up call? You are making cakes.” Mark teased, pushing his body subtly closer to Fernando’s. There was barely a gap between them. 

“Did not know you want a wake-up call… Did make you tea.” Fernando justified with a smile. Mark kissed Fernando’s cheek slowly, tasting the brush of flour under his tongue. One of Fernando’s hands finds the small of Mark’s back and pulled him closer. Mark leaned back.

“Seems I’m not the only one who wanted something this morning.” Mark teased against Fernando’s cheek. His mouth spread into a smile before he moved across the room and washed his hands. Fernando just watched him, feeling unable to do anything else. “So what is it you’re making, bub?” Mark asked with his back to Fernando. Fernando pulled himself back into the room and turned to the cake mix. 

“In the oven is a Piña Colada cake and this is chocolate.” Fernando said as he continued to stir. Mark looked at the oven as he dried his hands. 

“Piña Colada?” Mark asked, crossing the room. Fernando turned to face him as he stood in front of the oven door, looking in. 

“Yes. Is one of Mama’s recipes.” Fernando said, his focus changing back to the bowl he was stirring. There was a warmth that flowed across his sides as Mark’s arms snaked around him. Fernando sighed contently as Mark’s fingers slid underneath the hemline of his shirt. He had just pulled a plain, grey, round-neck shirt on when he got up. Mark’s head rested on his left shoulder. It was a comforting hold full of support. It forced away any memories of yesterday morning that threatened to replay themselves in his head. Fernando put the spoon down and lent back into Mark’s hold. 

“I’m sure it will taste fantastic.” Mark said, pushing his lips into Fernando’s neck. Fernando nodded. For a moment, everything was still. Mark was just holding Fernando and Fernando was trying to melt back into Mark and become one. They were in a suspended moment in reality that felt like it could have lasted years, even if it was just a few seconds. Fernando turned his head to kiss Mark’s temple before picking up the spoon again and carrying on stirring with his right arm. Mark stayed wrapped around him. “So, are you baking for some kind of Spanish coffee morning I have forgotten about?” Mark asked, unwrapping his arms from Fernando and placing them on the edge of the work surface. He pushed himself lightly into Fernando’s back. 

“Am cooking for Jenson.” Fernando said, throwing something else in the bowl. Mark blinked at him. 

“I don’t think he expects cake, mate.” Fernando shrugged at Mark’s comment.

“Then it’s New Year’s cake.” Fernando smiled. 

“Not for another day.”

“Then we have what is left for New Year’s.” Fernando smiled, turning to face Mark. Mark stole another kiss from Fernando unexpected lips before crossing back to the oven to look at the Piña Colada cake. 

“You put rum in this?” Mark asked hopefully, turning to face Fernando. Fernando nodded, pulling the second cake tin towards him. Mark caught his wrist as he went to spoon it into the tray. Fernando looked at Mark. “That oven-ready?” Mark asked softly, eyes only on Fernando.

“Yes. Just have to wait for the other one to finish then this one goes in.” Fernando smiled. 

“Have you tasted it? You know, to make sure it’s all good?” 

“I did this earlier.”

“Yeah, but you’ve added something since then…” Mark’s voice dropped a little as he put his finger just at the top of the mix to get a bit for Fernando to try. He held his finger out to the Spaniard. Fernando just looked at him, noting the slight darkness to Mark’s eyes. Mark waited patiently, holding out his finger. Fernando slowly pushed his lips around Mark’s finger and sucked the mixture off it. Mark couldn’t take his eyes off him. Fernando straightened back up, appearing completely unfazed. “Good?” Mark’s voice broke on the small word which caused Fernando to break into a smile. A smug smile. 

“Very.” Fernando turned back to the cake tin and poured the mixture in, readying it for the oven. Once he was done, Mark ran a hand from Fernando’s neck to the small of his back, evoking a small shiver from the Spaniard. He smiled as he pushed his hand up the back of Fernando’s shirt and danced his fingers lightly across the warm skin there. Fernando gripped the work surface tighter. Mark pushed his hand flat against the bottom of Fernando’s back and stood on his right, happy that the smirk on his fiancée’s face had now gone. He kissed chaste, slow kisses along Fernando’s jawline and smiled when Fernando couldn’t take anymore and threw his lips onto Mark’s desperately. Fernando turned so his back was pressed against the work surface and his hands curled into Mark’s hair. Mark’s hands were holding his hips still, slowly pushing the two of them together. Fernando gasped and broke the kiss on the first point of contact of their hips. Mark just smiled as he went to reinitiate his movements.

A bleeping interrupted them and Fernando reluctantly pushed himself from Mark’s hold to attend to the oven. Mark took the now empty cake bowl and spoon across the room and sat up on the surface next to his cold cup of tea, swinging his legs and licking the spoon absent-mindedly. He watched as Fernando put on red oven gloves and pulled the first, golden cake out of the oven and placed the second, auburn coloured cake in the oven. He set the timer and left the golden cake on the cooling rack before turning to Mark. And then he laughed. 

“What?” Mark asked as Fernando moved over to him. 

“You are eating this?” Fernando grinned, pointing to the bowl in Mark’s hand. Mark nodded and scraped the spoon round the bottom of the bowl, trying to get some of the mixture up. 

“I always used to when Mum made cakes.” Mark offered the spoon the Fernando. “Want some?”

“Is OK. You enjoy.” Fernando made to move away but Mark wrapped his legs around his waist and pulled him closer. Fernando’s hands found his hips. Mark slowly dragged the spoon from his lips, holding Fernando’s gaze. He scraped up another little bit before moving the spoon back towards Fernando. 

“You’ve got something… There.” Mark said, pressing the spoon to the curve of Fernando’s jawline. Fernando rolled his eyes a little before moving to wipe the mixture from his face. Mark caught his wrist. “I’ll get it.” Mark muttered, eyes fixed on the spot he put on Fernando’s face. He lent forwards and slowly licked the smooth chocolate mixture from Fernando’s face. Fernando felt a little light-headed. “How long until that one is done?” Mark asked, putting the bowl down and leaning towards Fernando. His lips found his jawline again and Fernando’s hold on his hips tightened a little. 

“Twenty minutes.” Fernando stated breathlessly. Mark smiled against his skin. 

“Suppose you’re going to tell me to wait then…” Mark purred, letting his breath dance across Fernando’s skin. Fernando lost his train of thought. Mark’s hands slid up the back of his shirt again, pulling him so he was pressed into the work surface. 

“Do not want to start what I cannot finish.” Fernando muttered, trying to even his breathing. Mark hummed in agreement against his skin, but the noise was deliberately arousing. Fernando pushed himself closer. “Mark…” Fernando’s eyes slid shut as Mark pressed his lips softly to Fernando’s neck. 

“Si, mi amor.” Mark hummed quietly. Fernando was too lost in the moment to recognise the language change. Mark was kind of glad because he wasn’t ready for Fernando to know about his secret lessons yet. Fernando’s body, however, responded to his words. Fernando’s hands slid from Mark’s hips, up his body, until they were cupping his face. He moved Mark’s face until it was in-line with his and brushed their lips together before pulling the Australian down to his and sucking gently on his lips. Mark let Fernando pull him from the work surface before pushing his tongue into Fernando’s slightly parted lips and weaving his hands into his hair. Fernando tried to fight back with his own tongue but eventually relented to Mark’s and let a satisfied moan run from the back of his throat. Fernando was the first to pull away, panting slightly with his arms hooked around Mark’s neck. “You’re not making it easy for me to wait.” Mark cooed, brushing his lips below Fernando’s ear and down his jawline. Mark made to push back into Fernando and rub their crotches together but Fernando stepped away from him, linking their hands and dragging his from the kitchen. Mark followed obediently as Fernando led him back up to the bedroom. He stood Mark at the foot of the bed and before the Australian had a chance to move, he shoved hard on his shoulders so Mark toppled backwards onto the bed.

“Have wanted to do that for ages.” Fernando smiled, climbing on top of Mark’s body. Mark pushed himself up the bed, discarding his hoodie as he did, so they would be more comfortable before running his hand across Fernando’s shoulder and a little way down his back. Fernando straddled his hips and lent to the left, reaching for something in his bedside drawer. Mark turned and watched him curiously. Fernando returned with a quiet click of the drawer shutting and a soft strip of red material. Mark frowned a little. 

“Since when have you had that?” Mark asked as Fernando moved his arms above his head so they were resting on the headboard.

“Since Andrea thought he was funny.” Fernando replied in a sarcastically amused tone. He lent close to Mark to fasten his wrists to the bed. Mark didn’t argue; he took the opportunity of Fernando’s proximity to suck gently on one of his nipples through his grey shirt. Fernando gasped and dropped his knot as Mark latched onto his skin. He regained his thoughts and finished the bow around Mark’s wrists, sliding a finger in between the material and Mark’s skin to make sure it wasn’t too tight. He sat back on his heels, forcing Mark to let go of his skin. Fernando looked down to see the mark on his shirt his fiancée had left. 

“This is not funny.” Fernando said in mock annoyance as he pulled the shirt over his head. 

“Maybe I did it because I wanted you to do that.” Mark’s arms flexed to reach for Fernando as he normally would, but were obviously stopped by the red material around his wrists. Mark looked up at the tie and gave it a few tugs in attempt of and escape but the bond didn’t budge. He turned back to Fernando. “Any particular reason you’ve tied me up?”

“Have not tied you up. Just your arms. Can still move.” Fernando corrected, climbing off of Mark and kneeling between his legs.

“OK, any particular reason you’ve tied up my arms?” Mark said with a small smile. Fernando’s fingers brushed delicately against his skin as his fingers hooked beneath the material of his pyjamas. Fernando looked up at him with a cheeky glint in his eye. It made Mark a little nervous. 

“You are clever. Am sure you will work this out.” Fernando replied, pulling slowly at the material around Mark’s legs to reveal his bare skin below. Fernando pulled the material away and threw it over his shoulder. His fingers ran up the inside of Mark’s legs as he pushed them apart slightly. Mark’s head rolled back in a sorry attempt to stay calm. The visual along with the sensation too much for him to bear. It didn’t matter though; he still felt Fernando’s breath tickling up the inside of his thigh, the gentle trace of a line with Fernando’s fingers, the heat of Fernando’s mouth as he hovered tantalisingly close to the tip of his hard cock. Mark swallowed dryly and tipped his head forwards to look at Fernando. It seemed that was what the Spaniard was waiting for. He softly kissed up half of Mark’s length before sliding his head into his mouth. Mark moaned, letting his head fall back again as Fernando licked across his slit. 

“Fucking hell, Fernando…” Mark sighed as Fernando continued to lick around his head, still not moving. Mark felt himself begin to squirm and Fernando’s hands pushed down on his hips to stop his desperate movements. Mark looked back down at Fernando, who was looking up at him. “You alright?” Mark tried stiffly, trying to ignore the urge to thrust into Fernando’s mouth and force him to move. Fernando gave two little nods. He was watching Mark closely, wanting to push him to the point where he was begging him to do something. It was part of the reason he had tied Mark’s hands; the soothing caresses Mark would be subjecting him too would be too much to not answer for gratefully. Fernando pushed a little harder on Mark’s hips as they pushed slightly upwards in a small and slow thrust. Fernando held him still on the bed. 

“Fernan… Fuck, mate, please… You’re tearing me-me apart…” Mark aired, his eyes closing tightly in concentration to not push into Fernando’s mouth. He felt like his sides were going to rip open. Fernando soothing rubbed circles into Mark’s side. He’d never heard Mark stutter before. Not in this situation. Mark was always the one to make Fernando stutter. Fernando slowly took Mark completely into his mouth whilst Mark cut crescent-moons into his palms with his nails. The sensation, being so slow and long awaited for, was painfully intense, but Mark wanted more of it. 

Gradually, Fernando began to increase his speed until he settled with a steady rhythm. Mark could feel the build in his navel and his shoulders strained to reach forwards and touch Fernando. It was as if it was only half the sensation. That this feeling could be tripled if he could feel Fernando. With his eyes closed, it could have been anyone. Mark could imagine the movement of Fernando’s shoulders, the feel of the soft waves of his hair, the light perspiration at the back of his neck. All the things that made it so obvious it was Fernando in this situation. Mark hated the disconnection. It made him feel like there was nothing to it for them apart from sex. Obviously, Mark knew this wasn’t true, but he wanted to stimulate all of his senses. Drown himself in Fernando. 

“Fuck, Fer… Please, I…” Mark’s voice failed him and he hoped that his obvious straining against the hold at his wrist was clear enough for Fernando to let him loose. Mark heard the sound first thought, and prayed Fernando would miss it. The oven alarm bleeped to signify that their twenty minutes were up. Mark groaned in frustration as Fernando slid him out of his mouth, a small smile playing on his lips. He licked up Mark’s length before he kissed the tip and climbed off the bed. Mark looked over at him as he walked from the room. “Git.” Mark muttered under his breath, resting his head back against the pillow. His arousal slowly began to infiltrate every thought he had and make him focus on how good Fernando mouth felt wrapped around him. He began to squirm again but it was to no use. It suddenly dawned on him to the reason his hands were tied. Fernando knew he would have to leave to deal with the oven. He tied Mark so Mark couldn’t do anything. Mark had to wait for Fernando’s return. Mark was going to kill Andrea. Why would the Italian have thought it was a good idea to get Fernando the fucking red material? Again, Mark tired and failed to get himself out of the bond. And he was getting desperate because now he was bucking his hips slightly, needing the feeling back. It was worse than being held right on the edge all those minutes ago by Fernando. Knowing Fernando, a man who was a ruthless fighter on the track, he would wait an hour or so until Mark was a useless wreck and then appear with a cup of tea and that fucking smirk…

Contrary to Mark’s belief, Fernando had almost tripped down the stairs in his haste to finish up in the kitchen and return to the Australian. The picture of Mark lying naked on his bed was all he could picture in his head, and the thought was making him clumsy. He ripped the oven door open and reached in without oven gloves on. Only when the heat tickled his fingertip did he remember the protective gloves and he dove across the room to get them. He pulled out the cake and tested that it was finished. He swore. It was going to need another five minutes. Annoyed, he pushed the cake back into the oven and set the timer. There was no point in going back upstairs. If he returned now he would let the blasted thing burn. He tried to not think about Mark upstairs and he set about tidying up the kitchen whilst he waited for the cake. At least we will not have to do this later. Fernando thought as he tipped Mark’s cold tea down the sink and washed up the mug. 

“Fernando… Please…” Fernando heard Mark’s voice desperately calling down the stairs. His pleading voice made the blood run between Fernando’s legs and he felt light-headed again. He could have only been gone two or three minutes. Fernando carried on tidying the kitchen, throwing the bowls and cooking equipment in the sink as it filled with warm, bubbly water. 

“Fucking hell, Fernando…” Mark called again, his voice sounding a little frustrated. Fernando checked the timer, his feet already turned toward leaving the room. Three minutes left. Three minutes for fuck sake. Fernando got two plates and cake covers out of the cupboard and set them on the side. He put the Piña Colada cake on one of the plates and took it out of its tin. The cake tin was dropped into the sink along with the other things. 

“I can’t…. Fuck, Fernando. Please… I can’t…” Mark’s voice came again as Fernando put the cover on the cake. He looked at the timer. One minute. Fernando drummed his finger impatiently on the work surface, as his eyes never left the clock. It’s numbers counted down in slow succession and Fernando could feel the annoyance himself. 

“Fuck!” Mark yelled, clearly annoyed now. Fernando hit the timer button as it went to bleep, preventing it from making a sound. He pulled the cake out of the over again and checked it. Happy that it was done he turned off the oven and placed the cake on the cooling rack before washing and drying his hands quickly and dashing from the room. He took the stairs two at a time and stopped himself from entering his room to pause and take a few deep breaths, collecting himself. He pushed open the door softly but his breath still caught at the image of Mark lying on his bed, waiting and begging for him, wearing absolute nothing. Fernando closed the door and stood by it sheepishly. 

“Sorry.” Fernando muttered. Mark watched him with a little frown as Fernando crossed the room towards him. 

“What?” Mark said, his voice strained. Fernando couldn’t stop his eyes raking Mark’s body, his tongue slowly moistening his lips. 

“Did not want to be that long. The cake needed longer…” Fernando muttered, perching on the bed at Mark’s right-hand side. Mark turned his head towards him. 

“S’Ok.” Mark sighed, trying to reach for Fernando. Fernando brushed the hair out of Mark’s face and let his hand sweep along Mark’s cheek. He kissed Mark slowly, letting his tongue drag along the Australian’s bottom lip. Mark relented to him easily, moving his body toward Fernando as much as he could. He gave a little moan of annoyance as he went to reach for Fernando and his arms were stopped. Fernando broke the kiss with a little frown at the noise. Mark looks up to his hands and gave another few small pulls. 

“Oh…” Fernando blushed, having completely forgot he had tied Mark’s arms. He straddled Mark’s hips again and lent over him, making sure to keep himself out of Mark’s reach, and pulled on the bow to loosen it. The material puddled into Fernando’s hand and he threw it in the direction of the side table. Mark let his arms drop to his sides, grateful to feel the blood rushing back into them. But before he could say or do anything else, Fernando’s mouth was wrapped back around his length as if they had never stopped. Mark’s hands grabbed at fistfuls of the sheet.

“Fuc… Fer… I…” Fernando’s abrupt movements had thrown Mark completely and the fast intensity of what Fernando was doing was phenomenal. Mark captured enough of himself to release the bed and curl his fingers of one hand into Fernando’s hair. The other rested on Fernando’s shoulder in a tight grip. Mark couldn’t stop the moans rolling from his throat. Everything was too much. What had been slow and sensual, building up to this explosive moment was long gone. It was replaced by urgency. As if Fernando was repaying Mark for lying still and waiting for him or feeling bad that he had been too long downstairs. But Mark couldn’t deal with everything at once. His fingers were recording so much of Fernando he was swimming in him. And Mark could feel the heat inside him building, his breathing becoming less and less coordinated. 

“Fernando… I… So…” Mark tried but nothing was working. Fernando was sucking at his tip, licking up his pre-cum, dancing patterns up his length. Fernando wasn’t relenting. He dragged one hand up the inside of Mark’s thigh and toyed with his balls. Mark’s back arched as he cried out, using Fernando to keep him tethered to the bed. Unknowingly, he was pushing Fernando’s head to take him deeper. Fernando pressed against the point at the back of Mark’s testicles that made the Australian’s vision blur. He was so close. This wonderful assault on his body making him wrapped his legs around Fernando to bring him closer. 

“If you… If you carry… Carry on I’m going to… Fuck, Fer… I’m close… So cl… Close…” Mark whined as Fernando began rubbing his balls, pushing lightly on that spot that made Mark cry out and thrust forwards. Fernando relinquished control and let Mark fuck his mouth until he came. Mark’s grip on Fernando’s shoulder tightened just before he came and Fernando swallowed, still with Mark deep in his mouth. Mark felt back on the bed, feeling sated and calm. His panting eventually came to a stop and his breathing regulated. Mark pulled Fernando up his body and took his lips as his own, a hint of his own taste coming from Fernando’s mouth. 

“You’re fucking amazing…” Mark sighed, his eyes feeling heavy. He needed a moment to collect himself, then he would return the favour. Fernando nodded down at him, still panting a little himself. “I fucking love you.” Mark let his hand rest on the small of Fernando’s back as he opened his eyes fully. He could feel Fernando errection against his leg. “But never leave me lying here like that again, got it?” Mark smiled, kissing Fernando deeply. Fernando made a wanton sound as Mark parted his legs slightly and rubbed his knee against his groin. Mark pushed lightly against Fernando’s shoulder to get him to sit back and he maneuverer himself so he was sitting with his back against the headboard. 

He observed Fernando for a moment, who was looking at him as if waiting to be told what to do. Mark moved over to him and pulled down his pyjamas. Fernando knelt up and helped Mark pull them off before he sat back down on his knees, waiting. Mark took in his hard erection. 

“You don’t want to…” Mark asked, his eyes moving from Fernando’s cock to his eyes, suggesting Fernando might like to touch himself. Fernando shook his head. “That’s a lot of self control, mate.” Mark said, guiding Fernando round so he had his back to Mark. Mark knelt behind him, running a finger from the small of his back to his shoulder. He wrapped that arm around Fernando’s waist, pulling him close to him, whilst the other slid down his side and took Fernando’s cock in his hand. Fernando’s breath caught as Mark took hold of him and slowly Mark began to move his hand. As the speed increased, Mark began to kiss along Fernando’s shoulders, tongue tracing the ink on his back. Fernando was melting backwards, using Mark and trusting that he would support him and keep him upright. 

Fernando’s panting grew louder as Mark sucked on the skin of his neck; thumb smearing the pre-cum over his tip. Mark felt his own body stirring at the reaction of Fernando’s and he stopped think about what he was doing. Mark unwrapped the arm from around Fernando’s waist and used it to stroke himself in time to what he was doing to Fernando. Fernando’s fingers began to dig into Mark’s thigh as he tightened his hold on the Spaniard. Using the pre-cum from his own cock, Mark rubbed it over his fingers and a little over Fernando’s arse, making Fernando dig his fingers deeper into Mark’s leg. 

“Kneel up.” Mark purred softly in Fernando’s ear and Fernando obliged. Mark ran his slicked finger around Fernando’s entrance a few times before pushing it into him in time with the movement of his other hand. Fernando’s stability wavered and he moaned loudly, falling backwards into Mark. Mark kept this movement going for a little while before he pushed a second and then a third finger into Fernando. Fernando’s muscles were all shaking in an attempt to keep him upright. He was trying to comprehend the feeling of everything happening at once but it was too much. Mark pushed gently between his shoulder blades and Fernando lent forwards, sticking his arse in the air. The Australian spat on his hand and ran it up his length a few times before placing his head at Fernando’s entrance. He looked down at Fernando’s shaking arms and wrapped one of his own back around Fernando’s waist. “You OK?” Mark asked softly, holding Fernando out on the edge. 

“Please, Mark… Please…” Fernando whined, pushing back towards Mark. Without another word, Mark pushed slowly into Fernando whose arms gave way underneath him and he fell heavily into Mark’s arm. Mark pushed himself all the way into Fernando before he pulled him up and pressed his back into himself. He wrapped his other arm around Fernando’s waist and took hold of his cock before he pulled himself out slowly. He repeated the action but this time stayed deep in Fernando letting him squirm in his arms as the intensity increased. Fernando’s head fell back on his shoulder. “Mark… Sí, por favor… Joder… Mark…” Mark thrust back quickly but slowly dragged himself into Fernando. He felt tight due to the quick preparation Mark had given him and the slow movements made Mark feel that heat rushing back all over him. Fernando clenched around him, pushing back into him trying to speed up the motion. Suddenly, Mark broke out of his subdued movements and slammed hard into Fernando, causing Spanish babble to pour from Fernando’s mouth. An electric pulse shot through them both when Mark smashed into Fernando’s sweet spot and the Spaniard fell forwards. Mark caught him and pulled him back up, thrusting harder to hit the point again and again. 

“Sí, Mark, ¡Sí! Al igual que esto. Joder… Joder, Mark… Estoy cerca…” Fernando cried as Mark felt his own second orgasm hit. It through them both forwards as Mark collapsed on top of Fernando. He was panting hard, trying to compose himself. But he didn’t have time; Fernando was withering around beneath him, still trying to reach his climax. Mark pushed himself off him with shaky arms and rolled him over. Fernando was sobbing “Estoy cerca.” And clawing at Mark’s back desperately. And Mark understood the words. He had heard one of them the other day for one of his lessons…

“How close is the supermarket?”

“¿Qué tan cerca está el supermercado?” 

Cerca… Close…

Mark smiled as he took Fernando into his mouth. Fernando’s hands weaved into his hair before one fell heavily on the bed clawing at the sheets. He thrust helplessly into Mark’s mouth wanting to pass on the sensation of feeling completely full by someone. The feeling he had felt mere minutes ago. Mark licked across his slit, hollowing his cheeks and Fernando came heavily. His hips flew up as the rest of his body determinedly pushed into the mattress. Fernando yelled out, his grip in Mark’s hair pulling tightly until he finally fell back down, panting crazily. 

His hands fumbled over Mark until the Australian pushed himself up and let Fernando pull him down and kissed him. It was a weak kiss; Fernando kept falling away from Mark to pant or try and catch his breath. It was an after-sex kiss. Mark loved it. Fernando pulled Mark down onto him as he laid and caught his breath back. He wanted the Australian near him always. His finger weaved into his hair as Mark laid chaste kisses on his neck and jawline. Fernando hummed contently. 

“Sorry.” Mark muttered, his hand resting on the curve of Fernando’s arse. Fernando frowned. 

“For?” Fernando sighed, pulling Mark a little closer. 

“This…” Mark brushed Fernando’s arse softly. “I didn’t do that right. I should have got lube, a condom… I just got caught up.”

“Is alright.”

“Fer, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I won’t-”

“-Did not hurt me.”

“I did, Fernando, and I’m sorry for that.” Mark said softly, leaning up off Fernando so he could look at his face. Fernando cupped his cheek lazily. 

“You worry too much. Am fine.”

“You need a shower though…” Mark commented, rolling Fernando onto his stomach. He looked down at Fernando’s arse, seeing cum run from the side of his arse cheek. Mark kisses the small of his back lightly before rolling him back over.

“As do you.” Fernando smiled, pulling for the duvet. Mark stopped him.

“Fer, we have people coming over.”

“Just ten minutes then.” Fernando said, tugging at Mark’s shoulders. Mark didn’t move. 

“Come on. Shower.” Mark said and he got off the bed. Fernando pouted. 

“Cannot.” Mark smiled at Fernando’s comment as he headed towards the bathroom. Fernando watched his back as he disappeared. 

“And why’s that?” Mark smiled as he came back into the room, the sound of the shower running behind him. Fernando snuggled further down in the duvet. 

“Legs are now jelly.”

“Good thing I can carry you then.” Mark threw the sheet off Fernando’s naked body and scooped him up, tucking one hand under his knees and the other supporting his back. As he was lifted off the bed, Fernando wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck. Mark put him down in the bathroom and placed a hand on the small of his back as he walked into the shower. Mark followed him in. “Hold onto that, would you.” Mark requested, pointing to the secure handle on the wall that they hung flannels off. Mark walked a frowning Fernando backwards until his back was against the tiled wall and indicated to the handle, again, with his eye. The shower spray was bouncing off Mark’s back as Fernando took hold of the handle and Mark knelt down in front of him. Fernando watched him with curious eyes as Mark’s hands ran down the outside of his legs and he ran his cheek up the inside, the rough stubble sending a shiver through him.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Fernando asked as Mark sat down on his heels, moving his face tantalisingly close to Fernando’s balls. 

“I got two, don’t see a reason why you can’t.” Mark smiled up at Fernando before sucking gently on the sensitive skin around Fernando’s testicles, with another hand taking a delicate hold of his still sensitive dick. Fernando gasped as his head fell back against the tile wall and his grip on the handle tightened. 

“Fuck…” Fernando breathed, his eyes sliding shut as Mark’s lips broke over his throbbing head.

\- - - 

“He doesn’t know it.”

“Yes I do.”

“Has forgotten.”

“Jeez, Jense, you’ve only not been racing for a month.”

“Shut up, I do know this.”

“Come on, babe, even I know this one.”

“It would be such a shame if you got this wrong.”

“Shut up, Mark.”

“Jenson, I was there. I came to see you race this one.”

“Hey! Fernando wasn’t allowed to give me clues.”

“It’s not a very good clue, Mark; I go and watch him race in lots of races.”

“Fair enough.”

“Did we say something about time limits? Or is this just as long as it takes. If so does anyone want a drink...” Fernando smiled, gaining a wink from Mark.

“Shut up, Fernando.” Jenson shot, his eyes not leaving the circuit in front of him. 

“This is you’re game, I thought you would have memorised the answers.” Mark teased, sitting back in his chair and tucking his hands behind his head. 

“The pictures change. And besides I don’t cheat, Mark. I’m not Seb.” Jenson threw at the Australian, sitting forwards and holding his chin, focus on nothing but the circuit in front of him. Mark and Fernando exchange a look. There was the potential for the moment to become awkward but Jessica put a stop to that. 

“Come on, Jense. You know this track.” Jessica said, a little desperately, as she sat forwards and rubbed between Jenson’s shoulders. Fernando was sat in front of Jenson holding an iPad with a satellite picture of a track from around the world. All Jenson had to do was identify it. Fernando and Mark were on a team against Jenson and Jessica, but Jessica was allowed clues from Jenson if she got stuck (to resolve Jenson’s argument that Fernando and Mark had an unfair advantage). There were old circuits as well as new and Jenson said that one of the McLaren guys had stumbled across the app and suggested it. The game had started about forty-five minutes ago with the first rounds making the game appear boring as they were very iconic, distinguishable circuits (Monaco, Nürburgring, Silverstone, Monza). But then came the circuit that Mark couldn’t name and the game really started to kick off. After it had taken Mark twenty minutes to name Suzuka, with Fernando and Jessica getting bored and talking about the holidays and Jenson sitting with the iPad with a smug grin on his face, They had decided maybe a time limit had to be put into play. And idea Jenson had totally been on board with. 

Until now. 

Jenson and Jessica were heading to Hawaii for New Years but Mark and Fernando had invited them to stay in Spain for one night before they headed out there. It was mainly because Mark wanted to tell Jenson about the engagement but also they hadn’t seen or spoken to each other in a while. They were both wearing their engagement rings around their necks again so they could bring it up in their own time and not have sudden questions thrown at them. It was a wonderful evening. Mark, with Fernando’s help, had cooked a pasta dish and they had Fernando’s cake afterwards. Then they sat in the lounge with its back door overlooking the setting sun over the low hills and played Jenson’s game. 

“Are we spending another twenty minutes on this one?” Fernando asked, looking to Mark.

“We did agree on a five minute time limit.” Mark said, smiling over at Jenson. 

“But you had twenty minutes. For me to have any less would be unfair.” Jenson commented, still not looking from the iPad. Jessica had got distracted when Mark had reached forwards for his drink. She thought she could see an odd tan line on his left finger. 

“You don’t like loosing, do you, mate? This year must have been hell.” Mark smiled, putting his glass back down on the table. There was a moment or two of silence where Jenson was concentrating, Mark and Fernando were watching him and Jessica was staring intently at Mark’s left hand. 

“Can I get anyone else another drink?” Fernando said, getting to his feet. Mark took his place with the iPad as Fernando headed out the room. No one else was concentrating on him enough to hear what he asked and so declined politely. Now with Mark sitting closer to her, Jessica could see his hand better. It was there. She could see it clearer now. A small band of skin that wasn’t quite as sun-touched as the rest. 

“You do know this, Jenson.” Mark said, feeling everyone was loosing interest again. Jenson raised an eyebrow at Mark before turning his attention back to the picture. 

“I know I know it.” Jenson sighed, running his hand over his face. Mark would have told him it was just a game and it didn’t matter, but having been in the position himself he knew how much Jenson would need to get this without any help. Fernando stuck his head back round the door.

“Does anyone want anymore cake?” Fernando asked softly. 

“Just bring them in here, bub, then we can help ourselves.” Mark smiled back and Fernando nodded, leaving the room again. Mark turned back to Jenson who was smirking at him with one eyebrow raised. Mark frowned a little. 

“Bub?” Jenson muttered, so Jessica wouldn’t hear. Mark blushed rapidly. 

“I said Bud.” Mark winced, glaring at his feet. 

“Sure.”

“Shut up, Jenson.” Mark shot, feeling stupid. Jenson put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, I think it’s sweet. I just… I don’t know, didn’t expect you to be one for pet names.”

“I’m not…”

“It’s alright if you are. He probably feels special when you call him that. I know I do when Jess calls me-” Jenson abruptly stopped himself talking, letting go of Mark’s shoulder and turning his attention back to the iPad. Mark smirked over at him.

“Calls you…?” Mark teased. Jenson shot him a look as Jessica came over and sat behind Jenson, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Have you got this yet?” Jessica asked, wrapping her arms around Jenson’s shoulders. Mark watched them with a small pang of sadness, wanting to be able to do the same with Fernando. It’s not that their relationship was secret from Jenson and Jessica, it just felt weird to be putting themselves on display having been being so secretive about it from the beginning. 

“No.” Jenson sighed, leaning back into Jessica’s embrace and kissing the back of one of her hands. “Why’d you come over, gorgeous? Not that I’m complaining.”

“I heard my name and could only assume you were talking about me.” Jessica smiled. Mark sat forwards a little, sending Jenson a smirk. 

“Yeah, we were talking about pet names.” Mark said evenly. Jessica smiled brightly at him. 

“You have one for Fernando?”

“I suppose… I’ve never really thought of it like that…”

“He calls him ‘Bub’.” Jenson said, his eyes back on the iPad. 

“That’s sweet!” Jessica smiled, hugging Jenson a little tighter. Mark blushed a little. 

“Yeah… Jenson was just about to tell me what you call him.” Jenson shot Mark a death glare but before he could open his mouth Jessica was responding to Mark’s request. 

“Snuggle-puff. Or normally just Snug.” Jessica smiled, leaning into the curve of Jenson’s neck. Jenson blushed furiously, making the freckles on his cheeks stand out. 

“That’s adorable.” Mark smiled, making his friend’s cheeks grow redder. 

“He’s just so snuggly.” Jessica grinned, placing a kiss on Jenson’s cheek before taking up her previous position. Jenson didn’t say anything because he wasn’t mad at Jessica. He loved being her ‘snug’. It was their thing. It just felt all ‘puppy-love’ when it was said to someone else. “But I’m more formal in public. There it’s just babe.”

“Very conventional.” Jenson smiled over at her. 

“Now do this and I’ll get you some cake.” Jessica bribed, getting Jenson’s focus back to the iPad. Fernando came through and put the cakes on the table before sitting himself in the sofa beside Mark, who was on the puffee seat stool. 

“Has he got it yet?” Fernando asked taking a sip from his drink. Mark shook his head. 

“Nope. We were having an embarrassing conversation about pet names instead.” Mark commented. Jessica sat forwards. 

“Does Fernando have one for you?” Jessica asked sweetly. Fernando shrunk back into the chair a bit and tried to stay very quiet. Mark ruined his hiding plan by turning to him. 

“There is one thing he uses I guess. Rarely, though. I don’t hear it too often. I don’t mind though,” Mark turned away from Fernando and back to Jessica. “Suppose it makes it more special when he uses it.” Mark shrugged turning back to Jenson. 

“What is it?” Jessica asked softly, looking to Mark. “If you don’t mind saying.” Mark turned to face Fernando whose cheeks had gone a little red. 

“I’ll ruin it if I say it…” Mark commented, turning to Fernando. 

“Is it Spanish?” Jessica said, her eyes lighting up. The conversation had, again, stopped Jenson from looking at the iPad. 

“Yeah…Fer?” Mark smiled softly. Fernando sat forwards a little and cleared his throat.

“Err… Mi todo.” Fernando said in a quiet voice. Mark’s eyes sparkled as Fernando used the name he used so rarely. He loved it. Loved to hear it. He didn’t know exactly what it meant but it didn’t matter; Fernando always said it filled with some much love it made his heart melt. Neither Jenson or Jessica needed to hear what it meant either. Mark’s reaction said enough. 

“Spa!” Jenson suddenly exclaimed. Mark tore his eyes away from Fernando, wanting more than anything to cross the room and kiss him, to look towards Jenson. “It’s Belgium! Spa-Franchamps.” Jenson sighed, feeling relieved he’d finally got this circuit. 

“Finally.” Jessica smiled, standing up and linking her hand with Jenson’s. Jessica pulled Jenson away from Fernando and Mark as Mark crossed to Fernando. It was soft, gently, started with the simple brushing of Fernando’s hair out of his face and Mark pressed their lips together, not caring if the whole world was watching. His hand cupped Fernando’s cheek as Fernando’s hands found Mark’s hips. Mark pulled back, sighing contently as he rested his forehead on Fernando’s. 

“Mi todo…” Mark murmured to Fernando. Fernando pushed their lips together again, smiling softly and clinging onto Mark as if for dear life. 

“See, do not ruin this word. You make it perfect.” Fernando sighed, wrapping his arms around Mark’s waist briefly. Mark stood up and lent down to him. 

“I prefer it when you say it.” Mark said, kissing Fernando’s forehead before sitting next to him and pulling him close. Fernando moulded to the side of his body like he had so many times before. 

“Do you know what this means?” Fernando asked, wrapping his arms back round Mark. Mark shook his head. 

“I don’t need to. It’s the way you say it. It’s special.” Mark smiled, pressing his lips to Fernando’s temple. Jessica and Jenson came back over, Jenson already started on his slice of Piña Colada cake. 

“This is really good, Fernando.” Jenson smiled, pushing more into his mouth. Jessica rolled her eyes at him. 

“He’s a little obsessed with cake if you didn’t notice.” Jessica joked. 

“Oh, really… I didn’t know that Jenson.” Mark added, sarcastically, with a smile. Jenson stuck his tongue out at Mark and that’s when Jessica saw it. She gasped, it all making quick sense in her head as the final piece fit into the puzzle. Everyone looked at her. Her eyes slid from Mark to Fernando gaining the confirmation she required. She tried to force her face not to break into a smile. 

“What’s up?” Jenson asked, no longer being distracted by the rich taste of the cake. Jessica shook her head.

“I just thought… Maybe…” She was struggling to find an excuse. “Oh! Yeah, maybe you could get the cake recipe from Fernando and make it when we go to Hawaii! That is, of course, if Fernando doesn’t mind.” Jessica blushed, looking down at her hands. Jenson sent her a confused look. 

“If you would like this is fine by me.” Fernando smiled over to Jessica. She looked back up at him.

“Yes! Oh good, why don’t you go and get it now, Jenson. Then you won’t forget.” Jessica said frantically, with a smile on her face, as she ushered Jenson to get up. Fernando did likewise. 

“Ok…” Jenson said sceptically to Jessica as he followed Fernando out the room, cake still in hand. Mark turned to Jessica. 

“So, Hawaii-”

“-You’re engaged!” Jessica smiled radiantly, taking a seat in front of Mark on the puffee. Mark blinked stupidly, his mouth opening and closing with no words coming out. 

“…Err… Is it nice this time of year?” Mark continued his question, trying to ignore what Jessica said.

“What?”

“Hawaii? Is it nice?”

“I suppose. Not really the main point of conversation though.” Jessica lent forwards, elbows on her knees, chin in her hands. “So how did you do it? I’m assuming you proposed. Or maybe Fernando did. No, I reckon you did. When was it? Did you do anything special? Did you take him out? I hope you asked him properly and didn’t just drop it into everyday conversation-”

“-Jess, slow down.” Mark said, holding up his hand to her. Jessica fell silent. “How did you find out?” Mark asked, still in a small state of confusion. Jessica pointed to his left hand. 

“You have a funny tan line. You’ve obviously been wearing your ring in the sun. Why have you taken it off?”

“But this could be anything.” Mark said, pointing to the tan line in question. Jessica reached for the chain around his neck. 

“This fell out a moment ago. That’s why I gasped.” Jessica smiled, letting Mark’s ring lay on show on his chest. Mark looked down on it, smiling and thinking: You traitor. You just had to be seen didn’t you. “So, you asked him, right?” Mark took her in for a moment. Maybe this was just how women reacted to engagements. His Mum had been similar and Mark was sure if José had given Ana half a chance she would have been the same. 

“Yes, I asked him.” Mark said, a small smile playing on his lips as his head replayed the memories. Jessica made an ‘Aww’ sound and clapped her hands together at Mark’s expression change. 

“So why aren’t you wearing this?” Jessica asked, frowning at Mark’s ring around his neck. Mark scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Well… We… We didn’t exactly know how to bring it up…” Mark said, not wanting to make Jessica feel bad that he was trying to avoid the exact reaction she had given. If he was honest, thought, he loved her reaction. Maybe it was down to how Fernando’s family had reacted that made him reserved about blurting it out and shoving it in people’s faces. Mark stood up. “I’m going to go and get you’re boyfriend. We’re going to do this properly.” Mark smiled at Jessica and she gave a smile of encouragement. As he left the room he pulled the chain from his neck and held it in his hand. 

“…And you’re Mum’s not going to kill me for making a copy of some family recipe that has been passed down from generation to generation?” Jenson was asking Fernando as he hand wrote a copy of the recipe Fernando had been following earlier. Mark hovered by the kitchen door. 

“Is fine. Do not worry.” Fernando laughed. He was leaning next to Jenson with his back against the work surface. His eyes fell on Mark and he stood up. 

“Can I borrow you a second?” Mark asked. Fernando nodded and walked out the room. 

“Just leave that there when you are done. Will put it away later.” Fernando smiled at Jenson before he followed Mark down the hall and into the spare bedroom Jenson and Jessica would be accommodating that evening. Mark pushed the door closed. 

“Jessica knows.” Mark said, with a small smile. Fernando gave him a small frown. 

“Knows what?” Fernando asked innocently. Mark rolled his eyes and took his ring off his chain, sliding it back onto his finger. The foreign feeling of thinking something was missing vanished instantly. Fernando understood. “You told her?” Fernando asked in a curious tone. 

“She worked it out.” Mark said. Fernando just nodded, taking his own chain from his neck. 

“Ok… So now we just tell Jenson.”

“And then we ask them.” Mark smiled, feeling a rush of excitement. Fernando grinned as he slid the ring back to it’s usual place. “You’re still Ok with that, right?”

“Is fine with me. Like you say, it prevents family arguments. Not that it matters. My family probably will not come.”

“They will come, Fernando.” Mark sighed. Fernando folded his arms. 

“Is stupid to pretend, Mark. They all hate me.”

“They don’t hate you, bub.” Mark said, pulling Fernando close to his body. He didn’t let go until he felt Fernando’s arms around his waist and his shoulders relax. Mark pressed his lips into Fernando’s forehead before pulling away and linking their hands. Mark led Fernando back into the lounge with Jessica. Jenson was still in the kitchen. Jessica rushed over and pulled Fernando into a hug as they entered the room. Mark let go of his hand and smiled. 

“Congratulations! I’m so happy for you.” Jessica smiled, letting go of Fernando. Fernando smiled back, not really sure what to do with the positive reaction. He was used to being yelled at or ignored. Jessica looked to Mark. “I’ll go and get Jenson.”

“In the kitchen.” Mark smiled, offering his hand back to Fernando. Fernando took it and happily entwined their fingers and Mark led him back to the sofa. They sat down and Fernando snuggled close under Mark’s arm, feeling his closeness as a massive comfort. “It’s going to be Ok, Fer. They’re going to be happy.” Mark cooed into Fernando’s ear, pressing his lips to the top of his head. Fernando nodded, clinging to Mark tighter as he heard Jenson and Jessica come into the room.

Jenson let Jessica lead him back in to the room with Fernando and Mark as a horrible recollection poured into his head. A similar situation. His three sisters had brought him into the dining room with his Mum and Dad sitting at opposite ends of the table. He was seven. They told him that his Daddy wouldn’t be living there anymore. Jenson swallowed dryly as he sat down in front of Mark and Fernando. 

“Everything’s alright… Yeah?” Jenson asked cautiously, perching on the puffee. Jessica sat behind him, rubbing in between his shoulders. Jenson was looking at Mark. 

“Everything’s fine, mate.” Mark smiled, a little confused by Jenson’s question. The Brit still didn’t seem satisfied. 

“And you two are still…” Jenson pointed between Fernando and Mark, causing Fernando to frown up at Mark. Mark shrugged. “Good and… You know… Together?” Jenson swallowed, waiting for the dreaded “Well… actually…” It didn’t come. Mark’s face, instead, broke into a smile. 

“We’re absolutely perfect. Very much together.” Mark smiled and caused Fernando to let out a breathy laugh. Mark’s left hand, that had been in his pocket, was placed subtly on the arm of the sofa. The ring glinted a little in the low light. Jenson didn’t notice it, just frowned a little at Mark’s answer. He looked to Jessica who was beaming at Mark, her body pushed close to his. She was obviously caught up in something romantic. Jenson looked back to Mark and noted Fernando’s left hand was on Mark’s leg. He’s eyes briefly held Mark’s before they dropped again, back to Fernando’s hand. And the ring. Sitting innocently on a denim-clan leg. 

Very much together.

Jenson’s mouth dropped open. He looked back up to Mark and then over to Jessica before looking back between Mark and Fernando. And it was written all over each of their faces. Jessica; looking at them with total admiration, Mark; who was smiling like the luckiest man on earth and Fernando; glowing like the connotation of love. Jenson couldn’t help but get wrapped up in it. His face easily slid into a smile. 

“Holy shit… You did it. You actually asked him.” Jenson wasn’t sure if they were engaged or married. It wouldn’t surprise him if they had gone off and got secretly married, but he would be a little hurt he wasn’t at least told. Jessica touched his shoulder lightly. 

“They’re engaged.” Jessica smiled. Jenson stood up, a little bit of relief flushing through his veins.

“That’s fucking fantastic!” He smiled. Mark laughed at him as he got up and extended his hand. Jenson batted it away and pulled him in for a hug. Fernando bounced up and accepted the tight embrace from Jenson ecstatically. This was how it was supposed to be: happy. Not yells and shouts and slamming doors. Fernando took Mark’s hand proudly as Jenson let him go. Jessica wrapped her arms around Jenson’s waist as she stood. 

“We also wanted to ask if you would…” Fernando started. He stopped because he wasn’t sure if Mark wanted to ask. He looked up at the Australian but he just nodded encouragingly. Fernando smiled radiantly and turned back to Jenson and Jessica. “If you would both be our signed witnesses. We need two people to sign the book as witnesses. We discussed it and we both decided we want it to be you two.” Fernando beamed. Jessica had tears in her eyes as she threw herself into Fernando’s arms. Fernando laughed, rubbing her back softly as Jenson shook Mark’s hand, looking like a proud Dad. 

“Absolutely. We’d be honoured.” Jenson smiled to Mark. Fernando handed Jessica back to Jenson, still speechless, and they all sat back down in their designated pairs. “So technically, this makes me your best man.” Jenson smiled. Fernando and Mark passed each other a concerned look; Jenson seemed to have a glint in his eye. They’re concern couldn’t be read clearly thought because they were both beaming at each other. 

“Yeah, if you want.” Mark directed at Jenson. “Done. We’ve got ourselves a Best Man and a Chief Bridesmaid.” Mark smiled down at Fernando. 

“We shall share them. Do not think either of us could deal with Best Man Jenson alone.” Fernando joked, looking up at Mark.

“So I’m throwing you both a bachelor party?” Jenson confirmed, still grinning ear to ear. 

“What do you mean, ‘bachelor party’?” Mark said in a suspicious tone.

“Best Man’s duty. Sorry, Mark. You confirmed you both wanted one when you gave me the job.” Jenson winked. “No ‘backies’ I’m afraid.” 

“So have you booked the date?” Jessica asked, having composed herself. 

“January 16th. We’re going away somewhere from the 17th to the 21st because someone has to be back to unveil a car.” Mark smiled down at Fernando. 

“We’re having a longer trip in the summer break when we are hopefully a little less busy.” Fernando smiled. They then when on to answer Jessica’s questions about how it all happened. The re-telling of the story consisted of a lot of ‘Aww’s from Jessica and teasing little comments from Jenson. Fernando let Mark tell them, hearing for the first time how long he had been planning on asking and how Jenson had been involved in the process. “So that’s why you went off with Jenson and couldn’t tell me why” Fernando had laughed about the fake ‘Jenson had a problem’ story now, in light of what it meant they had got. And for once, in a long time, Fernando felt at peace with himself. People were happy for him, which meant it could happen. It wasn’t just Mark and him stuck in a bizarre bubble that no one else understood. He rested his head on Mark’s chest and sighed a deep sigh he felt he’d been holding in for a long time. Everything could be Ok. 

\- - - - -

“Why can I not go for a run?” Fernando asked as Mark pulled him, yet again, back onto the sofa. They were watching some sports match that Fernando didn’t have much time for. So, to say them, it was actually Mark sitting watching the television and holding Fernando as his prisoner. 

“I want you to stay here.”

“But is a lovely day and I have not been running for ages.” Fernando pouted and Mark slid behind him and wrapped his arms and legs around his body in a teddy-bear hold. Fernando sighed. 

“I just want to have a lazy day with you. Is that such a crime?” Mark said, kissing Fernando’s neck. They were still in their pyjamas and it was New Year’s Eve, Jessica and Jenson had gone earlier that morning. Fernando had a sneaky suspicion that Mark wasn’t planning on getting changed at all today. 

“We had a lazy day a few days ago.” Fernando argued. 

“No, that was a comfort day. In a lazy day neither of us leave the house.” Mark sighed, pulling Fernando closer. Fernando folded his arms and set a bored expression on his face. 

“Bored.” Fernando announced as something apparently interesting happening in the game. Mark sighed, still not relinquishing his hold. 

“Do you have to run now?” Mark asked. He slowly pushed Fernando down so he was lying on the sofa and he straddled his hips, eyes coming away from the game. Fernando held his hips. “I was hoping we could do some other form of exercise…” Mark muttered as he lent onto Fernando and kissed him. It wasn’t Mark’s cleverest move in the long run, but he really needed Fernando to stay here. They were going to come any minute now. Mark lent back and Fernando looped his arms around his neck. 

“Will probably still have to run afterwards…” Fernando smiled, playing with the hair at the nape of Mark’s neck. 

“Probably be having two showers today then.” Mark smirked as he caught Fernando’s lips in his again. They both just had their pyjama bottoms on and Fernando’s hands took no time at all to run down the bare expanse of Mark’s back. Mark thrust forwards unintentionally as Fernando’s fingers hooked just underneath the top of Mark’s trousers. Both men moaned at the first point of contact, their kiss being broken.

“So this is what we’re doing? Not very good exercise…” Fernando mused, untucking his fingers and putting his palms on Mark’s arse. 

“You started it.” Mark smiled, but the grin was quickly wiped off his face when Fernando pushed his hips down and their groins came together again. Another moan from each. 

“Then maybe you should finish it.” Fernando challenged. Mark pushed their lips together once more and thrust his hips down onto Fernando, keeping the contact between the two of then and rubbing them together. Fernando’s hands slid to Mark’s hair as he desperately tried to not break their kiss apart. 

The doorbell ringing saw Mark climb quickly from Fernando and head out the room. Fernando watched him go and called: “Now you are answering my door? Is as if am already married to you!” in jest before lying back down and waiting for Mark to return. There was a small murmuring of voices by the doorway and then Mark came back into Fernando’s view, his eyes a little panicked. Fernando sat up. 

“I’m really sorry, but I had to. I needed you to stay here. Please don’t hate me.” Mark said, throwing a hoodie at Fernando. Fernando pulled it on as he sat up, a worried expression on his face. 

“Do not hate you. Why did you need me to stay?”

“Your… Erm… Come and see…” Mark said, offering his hand to Fernando. Fernando distracted his head from what he thought was about to happen and calmed himself down. There was no way he was going anywhere with blood still pooling between his legs. After a few deep breaths he got up and walked over to Mark, taking his hand. Mark also had pulled a hoodie on. “Just… They wanted to come and speak to you.” Mark said, leading Fernando out into the hallway. Fernando’s stomach dropped, as he was one step from exiting the room. He dropped Mark’s hand as he realised who was waiting in the hall. “Fernando-”

“-Why did you not tell me or at least give me warning?” Fernando asked, his tone becoming hushed and panicked. Mark held the top of both of his arms. 

“Because if I had have done you would have gone for a run. This was the only way I was going to make this happen.” Mark said sympathetically. Fernando glared at the floor. 

“You set this up?”

“They wanted to come and speak to you. I just told them the day and time. Just hear them out, Fernando.” Mark said softly, brushing Fernando’s hair from his face. Fernando gave a few small nods and stepped out into the hallway, deliberately standing behind Mark. His Mum and Sister were taking off their shoes by the door and having a quiet conversation in Spanish. Fernando wasn’t surprised to not see his father. If his Dad had come he would have been more shocked and would have told them all to go home. He couldn’t face his father right now. When Ana turned around her stern expression changed into a soft smile as her eyes fell on her son. Lorena looked at her mother, confused, before she followed her gaze and saw her little brother. She walked with purpose down the hall and Fernando clung tightly to Mark’s hand. Mark stepped out of Lorena’s way as she came closer and let go of Fernando’s hand. Fernando swallowed dryly and closed his eyes, waiting for the hollers of Spanish to fill the hall. 

But then he was being squeezed so tightly he didn’t think he’d ever be able to breath again. He opened his eyes slowly to register that his sister was trying to hug him to death. He looked at Mark, confused, but Mark just smiled at him with his arms folded. Fernando moved his focus back to Lorena and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back. Ana rushed down the hall and threw her arms around her two children; bringing Fernando’s head close so she could kiss the top of it. Silent tears ran down her face as she pulled her son tightly to her. Lorena let go so Ana could hold Fernando properly. 

“Thank you.” Lorena said to Mark, wiping a stray tear from her eye as Ana cooed soft Spanish words in Fernando’s ear, the majority of which Mark understood. Mark gave her a small frown. 

“What for?” Mark asked. Lorena moved over and pulled him into a hug as well. 

“For taking care of him.” Lorena muttered in Mark’s ear before letting go and wiping another tear from her eye. “Who would have thought that we would be the ones to hurt him.”

“Hey, now.” Mark said softly, putting a hand on Lorena’s shoulder. She looked up at him. “For the last few days he’s been thinking he’s hurt you. He’s thought he’d given you all a reason to hate him. And I bet you all thought he hated you. It’s all water under the bridge, Lorena. It’s over now.” Mark said and Lorena nodded, swallowing away more tears. Ana cupped Fernando’s face and placed a kiss on his forehead before letting go. Mark could see Fernando also had tears in his eyes. Lorena moved back over to Fernando and smacked his arm.

“Ow!” Fernando complained, but before anything else happened Lorena threw her arms around him.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, Fernando Alonso-Díaz. Don’t you storm off if I tell you to come back. Never. Ok?” Lorena let go of him and held his shoulders, more tears spilling onto her face. Fernando brushed them off her cheek. 

“Ok, Lorena.” Fernando gave a watery smile and Lorena hugged him again. 

“Shall we go somewhere a little more comfortable?” Mark asked softly as Lorena let go of Fernando. He gestured towards the room Fernando and he had just vacated at the two women nodded, walking through the doorframe. Mark caught Fernando’s shoulder and held him back. “You alright?” He asked. Fernando just nodded, his eyes threatening to spill over. Mark pulled him sto his chest and Fernando curled into the curve of his neck. Mark felt the splash of two tears on his neck and rubbed Fernando’s back soothingly. “It’s alright now, bub. It’s all over, yeah? It’s all going to be Ok.” Mark muttered into Fernando’s ear. Fernando nodded and straightened up, running a hand messily across his face. His lips spilt into a watery smile and he took Mark’s hand, leading him through. Mark turned the television off and let Fernando sit on the sofa opposite his Mum and Sister before offering to get people a drink. He left them to chat as he went back through to the kitchen and put the kettle on. 

Once Mark had come back and the drinks were being drunk did Fernando properly relax. Mark was sat behind him, playing with his hair and every now and then pressing his lips into his temple whilst his mother and sister spoke to him. It was so calm and peaceful. He even found himself telling them the story of how Mark had proposed. They gushed over it, saying how sweet and romantic it was. And Mark had added his bits of the story and everything was wonderful. 

“Fernando, before we go, we brought something here for you.” Ana said, opening her bag. Lorena beamed at Fernando and Fernando looked up confused at Mark, wondering if he knew anything about this. Mark just shrugged. Fernando turned his attention back to his mother who was now holding a thin wooden box (about the size and shape of Fernando’s phone). “It was my Papa’s, your Grandpapa’s. You never knew him but I want you to have it.” Ana handed the box over to Lorena who passed it to Fernando. Fernando lent forwards to take it, his eyes wide with curiosity. Mark sat forwards with him, wrapping his arm around Fernando’s waist. Fernando unclasped the front of the box. 

“Is so you know you belong in this family. Irrelevant to what Papa says.” Lorena smiled and Fernando felt a lump grow in his throat. He looked over to Mark who rubbed his back soothingly and gave him a soft smile. Fernando took a deep breath and opened the box. On soft cotton wool sat a ring. A simple, gold ring, a little alike the one on his left hand. But there was something about it that made it special. Fernando picked it up with shaky hands and looked at it properly. There was a small pattern scribed into the inside that under closer inspection was discovered to be tiny writing all around the ring. Fernando tired to read it. It was the same phrase over and over again.

“It says: ‘verdaderas historias de amor nunca tienen un final’.” Ana said in a delicate voice. Fernando’s voice caught in his throat. Mark beamed too. Even though he may not have understood the entire phrase, he had got most of it. He pulled Fernando closer and looked down at the little ring.

True love stories never have endings.

“Thank you, Ana. It’s truly amazing.” Mark said, looking over at her. She blushed a little. 

“Obviously you do not have to use this as your ring, Fernando. You may want something Mark gives you or something silver. I do not know…. But I wanted you to have it.” Ana said, tears lingering in her eyes. Fernando still hadn’t looked up from the ring. He took a shaky breath that made both Ana and Lorena let the tears fall loosely on their cheeks. 

“Is perfect.” Fernando muttered, putting it delicately back it the box and handing the box to Mark. Fernando crossed the room and pulled his mother into a tight embrace. Lorena couldn’t help but smile. Mark looked back down at the ring, feeling as if things might finally be turning their way. 

Once Lorena and Ana had said a tearful goodbye and made Fernando promise to see them again before the wedding, Fernando fell heavily into Mark’s arms, completely drained of emotion. Mark put the ring up in their bedroom in a safe place before returning to Fernando and holding him closely. 

“What do you want to do?” Mark asked softly, running circles up and down Fernando’s arm as they sat out in the garden, watching the day turn by. Fernando sighed deeply and contently, closing his eyes. 

“I want to use this. Is perfect.” Fernando smiled and Mark nodded. 

“Yeah, I want you to use it as well.” Mark pressed his lips to Fernando’s forehead. 

“Will keep this.” Fernando said, opening his eyes and holding up his left hand to show his engagement ring. “You gave it to me.”

“Sure.” Mark smiled, loving how sentimental Fernando was. 

“But will only wear the other one when we are married. Will keep this somewhere safe. Can be our family heirloom.” Fernando smiled, pushing himself closer to Mark. 

“Sounds perfect.” 

\- - -

After a lot of consideration and careful thinking, Fernando knew he what he wanted to do. Maybe he should have spoken to Mark about it first, but he wanted this to happen on his terms, not with a cleverly place word from someone else. He wanted it to come from him so the facts didn’t get twisted. And after his conversation with Lorena and his Mum he had made his decision: it was happening today. Before he could do any of that though, he needed to make a phone call. It was only fair in his opinion. He moved back out into the garden and sat down, watching the breeze run through the trees as he held the phone to his ear. It rang four times. 

“Fernando?” Fernando paused at the sound of her voice. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

“Hi, Dasha.” He said lightly. There was a moment where he heard a couple of slams of doors before her voice came back. 

“I’m so glad you called. I’ve been wanting to talk to you since France. Mark said I had to wait… Are you… Are you OK?” Dasha’s voice wavered as she stopped talking. Fernando couldn’t help but smile. 

“Yeah, am Ok. Very good, actually.”

“And Mark?”

“The same. Are both very good.” Dasha sighed in relief down the line. 

“I’m so glad. And I’m glad you called. I didn’t want you to… Hate me or anything.”

“Do not hate you, Dasha. Is a manipulative bastard. Is done now. Nothing else to do.”

“I know and I-”

“-Please, Dasha. Do not want to talk about this anymore. Is over.”

“I understand.” Dasha smiled. Fernando then asked a question he wasn’t planning on asking. 

“How is the baby?”

“The baby?”

“Yes. How is it?”

“Err… Woah, didn’t think you’d want to know about that…”

“I tell Mark and I tell you I will help. Want to help. Feel like I have left you stranded.” Fernando sighed, running a hand over his face.

“I’m not stranded. It’s fine. I’m at home with my parents. They’re helping a lot.”

“Good.”

“The bump is good.” Dasha said brightly. The use of the nickname Fernando gave the baby brought back a string of memories he didn’t want pouring in his head. “Had a first ultrasound the other day. Apparently it’s due around the 29th of July. How much of a coincidence is that!”

“Very coincidental.” Fernando said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He heard Mark calling for him from the house, looking for where he has gone. Fernando keeps his focus on the phone call. 

“So yeah, Bump’s good. I’m good. You’re good. Mark’s good. It’s all water under the bridge.” Dasha sums up. Fernando just nods, not knowing what to say. “Did you call for a reason?” Dasha asked lightly. 

“Err, yeah, actually. I did.” Fernando said, sending a fleeting look back to the house. 

“Ok… What was that?” Fernando turned his back to the house and spoke with confidence. 

“Mark and I are engaged. We are getting married on the 16th of January. I wondered if you wanted to come.” Fernando voice dropped at the end and he wasn’t sure if Dasha had heard. There was silence for a moment. “Dasha?”

“Oh, Fernando! That’s so wonderful! I knew it! I knew you would end up with him forever. Ever since I saw you with the little red cake! Oh, Fernando! I’m so happy.” Dasha said genuinely down the line. Fernando was shocked to hear her radiantly speaking. He had expected to hear some resentment but she was practically beaming at him. Fernando couldn’t help but smile. 

“Thank you.”

“And of course I will come! 16th of January. I’m writing it down right now.”

“Wonderful.” Fernando felt another weight lift off his shoulders, so he carried on. “I think the three of us should meet up before hand and talk about… Everything. Just to clean the slate for good. Then we can do this wedding and have this baby together without any awkwardness or resentment.”

“Completely agree.” Dasha said over the line, still beaming. Fernando could have almost laughed at how simple that was. He heard the door slide opened behind him and turned to see Mark had found him. 

“Will text you a time once I have had talk with Mark.” Fernando smiled. 

“Ok. I will see you soon.”

“Yes.” Fernando smiled and the line went dead. Simple. Why couldn’t everything be simple? Mark sat down on the grass next to him.

“You alright?” Mark asked calmly. Fernando snuggled under his arm and nodded. “What are you doing out here?”

“Needed to make a phone call. Needed a clear head.” Fernando said.

“Who to?”

“Dasha.”

“Huh.” Fernando looked up at Mark to see his perplexed expression. 

“What?”

“No, nothing… Just wasn’t expecting that.” Mark shrugged. 

“Want to meet with her before the wedding. Clean the slate.”

“You’re just stealing the words I say to you now and repeating them to me, are you?” Mark smiled and Fernando blushed a little. “Did you tell her about the wedding?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Is very happy. Is coming.”

“Well, that’s not bad is it. You’re Mum and Sister, possibly Dad,” Fernando scoffed but Mark carried on as if he hadn’t said anything. “My Mum, Dad and Sister. Jenson and Jess, Dasha, Annie and her family.” Mark looked down at Fernando. “We really need to send out some invites.”

“Will do in the new year.” Fernando yawned, getting up. 

“You know that’s in a few hours, right.” Mark teased as he took Fernando’s hand and got up himself. 

“Better get planning then.” Fernando smiled and they walked back into the warmth of the house hand-in-hand. 

\- - -

Ten. 

Nine. 

Eight. 

Seven. 

Six. 

Five. 

Four. 

Three. 

Two. 

One….

Happy New Year!

Mark and Fernando missed the beginning of the Spanish fireworks because they were to busy trying to not be the first one to break their kiss. They had both got caught up in the moment, standing and facing each other, their fingers entwined and counting down. It was odd to think that that was how they started 2014. Wrapped in each other’s arms, fighting to not be the first to pull away. They had, in fact, pulled away at the same time, even though they both claim it was the other first. The New Year had only just started but they already had so much to do. Mark wrapped his arms around Fernando’s waist and rested his head on his shoulder as they watched the fireworks. Fernando felt so content he barely noticed Mark was humming in his ear. It took a moment for him to realise Mark was humming the Spanish National Anthem. 

“Why are you humming that?” Fernando asked, smiling as he turned to face Mark. 

“I need to learn it so when you win races this year I can sing along.” Mark said, eyes still on the television screen. Fernando caught his lips and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him close. Mark steadied them by holding Fernando still. 

“Never think I can love you more but then you just prove me wrong.” Fernando sighed, resting his forehead on Mark’s.

“Yeah?” Mark replied with a smug tone. Fernando left a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“Always. Cannot wait to see what you do to surprise me next.” Fernando smiled. Mark pulled him onto the sofa and they laid down on their left sides, Mark with Fernando’s back pressed into his chest. He had his right arm wrapped around Fernando’s waist and his left playing with his hair as some Spanish programme came on that neither of them were watching. Fernando got out his phone. “Mark?”

“Mmm?”

“Smile.” Fernando said. Mark lent down so his head was next to Fernando’s in the frame of his phone. Fernando captured the moment and then opened it to look at it. It filled Mark with a buzz of happiness to see Fernando and him looking so blatantly happy in the photo. But Fernando didn’t shut it off.

“You want to put that on Twitter, don’t you.” Mark stated. Fernando looked round at him. “That’s why you called Dasha today. You wanted her to hear it from you instead of finding out online.”

“We have called, seen or text everyone who needs to know. I text Andrea this morning and he has told the people at Ferrari. Lots of people know now. Am sick of hiding.” Fernando said and Mark could see he’d put a lot of thought into it. Mark lent down and kissed him softly before he curved back around Fernando and relaxed into their position, closing his eyes. 

“Fine by me. This is you’re decision. I’ll support you and us in whatever you want to do.” Mark smiled, resuming his playing with Fernando’s hair. 

“Thank you.” Fernando smiled; he was about to relieve another weight off his shoulders. Fernando re-opened his images and looked at the photo he had just taken without Mark knowing. Their kiss. It looked so beautiful to him and it just summed them up perfectly. With one last look at Mark, he opened up Twitter and selected the image of their kiss. Once he had posted it to Twitter he opened Instagram and posted the same image with the same comment.

@alo_oficial: Have a great New Year everybody. Let’s hope for luck and good fortune! #ForzaFerrari #2014 #love.

Fernando turned his phone off and rolled over, curving into Mark. Mark blinked open his eyes and brushed the hair from Fernando’s face. 

“Done it?” Mark asked softly. Fernando nodded. Mark pressed his lips to Fernando’s.

“Te amo, mi todo.” Fernando whispered to Mark with his eyes closed and their foreheads pressed together.

“Te amo Fernando, mi amor.”


	34. Exposure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Vulnerability is basically uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure”  
> ~Brene Brown~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *DISCLAIMER* Some of the Twitter user names belong to real people (the real drivers). I do not own any of them and have used them only to make this a little more realistic :P 
> 
> Thank you, hope you enjoy : )

SamuraiRed14: @alo_oficial What is this? O.o #Confused

FerrariDiva94: @alo_oficial @Kimis_Bitch @thatguypaul I TOLD YOU! ^_^ Congrats guys <3 #LoveIt #love

Kimis_Bitch: @alo_oficial Well, it’s obvious he started this year with a bang ;) #Congrats #love #ICouldntResist 

Formula2_23: @alo_oficial Are you fucking serious? 

Jenny_Cal42: @alo_oficial What happened to Dasha? 

SkidQueen46: @alo_oficial Do we know how long this has been going on? 

FerrariDiva94: @alo_oficial Fan fiction is about to blow up…

DannyQuell: @alo_oficial This is a joke, right? Someone has photo-shopped it. #CantBeReal

Sawyer95: @alo_oficial @DannyQuell It’s come from his official account. 

AliciaM4y: @alo_oficial I don’t believe this. #Unbelievable 

DannyQuell: @alo_oficial Some things should be banned. #FeelingSick #BanItFromThePaddock

ForzaF3rrari14: @alo_oficial Does anyone else see the ring on @AussieGrit ‘s finger? 

Webonso-s-Child: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit So sweet! I’m happy for them. If they’re happy all of us should be as well. It’s their choice! Good on you guys. #HappyNewYear #love 

Kimis_Bitch: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit We’re they’re fans we should support them in everything! Congrats you two :’) #ForzaFerrari #love

Megan_Phil889: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit I’m not supporting that. #FuckOff #BanItFromThePaddock

ForzaF3rrari14: @alo_oficial No one else seemed to pick up on the fact @AussieGrit is wearing a ring. A RING! ON HIS LEFT HAND! #SomeoneElseNotice #Please #WebonsoIsReal

Webonso-s-Child: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @ForzaF3rrari14 Shit… Wait, isn’t it the other hand if people are gay? #WebonsoIsReal

ForzaF3rrari14: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @Webonso-s-Child DOES IT MATTER! #WebonsoIsReal

St3f4n0: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @ForzaF3rrari14 Holy shit, are they married? #WebonsoIsReal

BullByTheHorns: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @St3f4n0 Maybe. Either married or engaged. #WebonsoIsReal

Finnish_Grit: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit WELL FUCK THE POPE! #WebonsoIsReal

ForzaF3rrari14: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @Finnish_Grit Really? 

Finnish_Grit: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @ForzaF3rrari14 Seems justifiable now the world has gone CRAZY! 

SunlightDancer: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit I knew they were close, just didn’t realise they were THAT close. Congrats you guys. That is a New Year surprise. #WebonsoIsReal #love #HappyNewYear

Finnish_Grit: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit Why does everyone seem to be OK about this? 

BullByTheHorns: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @Finnish_Grit Because we’re not all homophobic twats like you, jackass. 

FormulaFerrari: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit How long do we reckon this has been going on? #WebonsoIsReal

Kimis_Bitch: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @FormulaFerrari God knows. Webber didn’t have a ring in the 2013 season – just checked. #WebonsoIsReal

FormulaFerrari: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @Kimis_Bitch So it happened during the winter break? #WebonsoIsReal

Kimis_Bitch: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @FormulaFerrari Who do you think proposed to who! #WebonsoIsReal

FormulaFerrari: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @Kimis_Bitch I bet it was so sweet whoever did it!  
#WebonsoIsReal

J3n50n_Bu770n: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit This is making me feel sick. #Unacceptable #BanItFromThePaddock

thatguypaul: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit It appears I owe @FerrariDiva94 an apology. Do we really think this could have been going on since Japan? #WebonsoIsReal

FrenchToastyToast: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @thatguypaul There’s no way to know. #WebonsoIsReal

FormulaFerrari: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @thatguypaul @FrenchToastyToast @Kimis_Bitch I bet it was Mark. AND I bet he proposed on New Year. #WebonsoIsReal

thatguypaul: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @FormulaFerrari @FrenchToastyToast That means you think they’re engaged? #WebonsoIsReal

FormulaFerrari: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @thatguypaul @FrenchToastyToast Or maybe Christmas? I reckon some time Alonso wouldn’t have been expecting it. #WebonsoIsReal

FrenchToastyToast: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @FormulaFerrari @thatguypaul More likely to be Christmas then; New Year’s too cliché. #WebonsoIsReal

thatguypaul: @alo_oficial @FrenchToastyToast @FormulaFerrari Might have just been asked over dinner or something. Very simple I’d say. That would be very @AussieGrit. #WebonsoIsReal

FrenchToastyToast: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @thatguypaul @FormulaFerrari Simple but on a date he could always remember :P #WebonsoIsReal

thatguypaul: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @FormulaFerrari @FrenchToastyToast Could they turn a wedding around in a week? #WebonsoIsReal

SkidQueen56: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @FormulaFerrari @thatguypaul @FrenchToastyToast They do in ‘The Five-Year Engagement.’ #WebonsoIsReal

FormulaFerrari: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @thatguypaul @FrenchToastyToast @SkidQueen56 That’s a film. 

SkidQueen56: @alo_oficial @FormulaFerrari @FrenchToastyToast @thatguypaul Yeah, if @AussieGrit planned it well enough. #WebonsoIsReal

FormulaFerrari: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @thatguypaul @FrenchToastyToast @SkidQueen56 I don’t really care; just happy for my two heroes. <3 #WebonsoIsReal #love #RealLove #YearOfTheHorse

SuzieLo0o: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit This is disgraceful. What kind of role models are you two?!? You should be ashamed. #Ashamed #BanItFromThePaddock

R1kiiR4ck: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit don’t lisen to ani1 m8s. B who u b! Life 4 livin! (no more pics though, make me want 2 vom). 

JensonButton: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit Happy New Year guys! @jessybondgirl loves the photo. So sweet, ‘Bud’ ;) 

IcemanSunday: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit …Well that’s new. Apparently #WebonsoIsReal … Who knew O.o #ABitStumped 

MarkAlonso32: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit YES! #DreamComeTrue So happy for you guys :’) #WebonsoIsReal

nico_rosberg: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit Of course none of us could see this coming! Haha #Predictable :P Happy for you guys :) Let’s see how the press try and wreck this #GoodLuck #HappyNewYear

DashaKapustina: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit So happy for you guys :) #RealLove #HappyNewYear

JennyCal42: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @DashaKapustina Wait. Dasha’s happy? #SoConfusedRightNow #BanItFromThePaddock

R1kiiR4ck: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @JensonButton @nico_rosberg Wot… Is all the f1 padoc gay or sumin? #BanItFromThePaddock #WebonsoIsReal 

jessybondgirl: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit @JensonButton Happy! Love this, guys <3 <3 <3 #RealLove #Excited #HappyNewYear

MoleSkin839: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit #Heartbroken T.T #BanItFromThePaddock

FerarkAlober: @alo_oficial @AussieGrit I love you both so much. This is the best New Years ever. Don’t listen to the haters; they can’t see real love :) #WebonsoIsReal #RealLove #HappyNewYear

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

“Am sorry.” Fernando tried again as Mark paced in front of him. His little tweet obviously hadn’t gone well in Mark’s opinion. It was around eight in the morning of New Years day. Fernando had awoken to be lying on a very tense Mark. When Fernando had asked him what the matter was Mark had dropped his phone on the bed, where he had been lying, as he got up and begun pacing the room. Fernando was now sitting at the end of the bed, Mark’s phone still held in his hands with the notifications on Twitter rolling in. Fernando watched Mark, only moving his eyes. 

“Not quite the point though, is it.” Mark shot as he finally stopped pacing and fell heavily next to Fernando, lying down with his legs hanging off the bed. He put his palms over his face as Fernando turned his body towards him. Fernando chewed on the inside of his cheek uncertainly. 

“Do not know what else to say.” Fernando sighed, looking down at Mark. Mark moved his hands apart to reveal his face, lifting his head to glared over at Fernando. 

“Just tell me what was wrong with the first one you took.” Mark asked. Fernando just shrugged. “There wasn’t anything wrong with it, was there.” Mark shook his head and he dropped it back onto the bed. Fernando looked down and fiddled with the hem of his trousers. 

“Am really sorry.” Fernando sighed, hoping maybe this time Mark would accept what he said. “You said you were fine with it. Said you would support me and us whatever.” Mark propped himself up on his elbows.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you were going to post that online did I?” Mark spat. “We can’t fix this. That’s it. That photo is out there forever. Anyone can get hold of it: the press, fans… The other drivers.” Fernando frowned as Mark lingered on his last two words, implying one thing. 

“What could Sebastian do with the picture? Show it to everyone? Already did that.” Fernando tried to justify. Mark pushed himself back up off the bed. 

“You don’t get it. If you understood you would have never posted it in the first place. The first one was safe. People could understand or people could choose not to believe what they were seeing. It would have just generated a rumour-”

“-Did not want a rumour! Why are you not happy about this?” Fernando stated, growing impatient with Mark. He couldn’t say sorry anymore. What more did he want?

“Why didn’t you tell me you had taken it?” Mark asked, stopping in his tracks and turning to face Fernando. 

“Wanted it to be natural.” Fernando muttered to his feet. Mark moved closer to him. 

“After you’d taken it. Why didn’t you say?” Fernando stared intently at his feet as Mark spoke. “Fernando.” Fernando shrugged in response. Mark’s voice grew angrier as he realised. “You knew I’d tell you not to put it online… So you went behind my back-!”

“-Did not go behind your back! I ask and you say fine. ‘Do what you want, Fernando’ so I do not see a problem here!” Mark walked across the room and away from Fernando, stopping at the window. Fernando crawled across the bed so he was closer to Mark. “Mark, people are happy.”

“Some aren’t.”

“Not everyone was going to be. Want to share what we have. Am proud of us.” Fernando muttered with a small smile. Mark turned to face him. 

“I’m proud too, Fer, but you’re not thinking. What’s going to happen when the press find out where we are? They’ve got one of two houses to try first before they then bombard our families. Do you really want the press talking to your Dad?”

“This will not happen. People do not know their address.”

“Fernando, you’re not hearing me.” Mark said, crossing the room and placing both of his hands on Fernando’s shoulders. 

“What is the problem with the photo?” Fernando asked bluntly, folding his arms. 

“There’s nothing wrong with the pho-”

“-Then why are you so annoyed-?”

“-I’m not annoyed, Fer-”

“-That’s what it seems-”

“-It’s too personal!” Mark yelled, throwing his arms down by his sides. Fernando frowned at him a little. 

“Too personal?”

“Yes… All right… Yes.” Mark said with a hint of a dubious tone. “Why couldn’t that have just been ours? Because now people are going to expect every little aspect of our lives.” Fernando stood and cupped Mark’s face. Mark felt instantly guilty; he was too far into the lie to not go with it. 

“This will not happen, Ok? Will not let it. Even if everyone hates us because we will not do what they want. We do what we want. Wanted to share this moment because it was perfect. Am really sorry that it upset you. Did not want to upset you. Promise I will check with you before I do anything again.” Fernando sighed, rubbing a soothing thumb across Mark’s cheek. Mark placed one of his hands over Fernando’s.

“You don’t need my permission, mate. Like I said, do what you want. I’ll support you in whatever you choose to do. Just… Let me know next time, yeah? I don’t want to have to find out via ‘Webonso’s Child’ that you’ve put a photo like that of us online. Or in this case taken a photo of us like that and put it online without me knowing. That’s all I’m asking for.” Mark pulled Fernando close to his body, comforted to feel Fernando’s arms wrapped around him. 

“Mark.” Fernando asked softly. Mark pressed his lips to Fernando’s forehead. 

“Yes, Fernando.”

“What is Webonso?” Fernando asked quietly, wanting to know and not wanting to know at the same time. Mark gave him a small laugh as he led them both over to the bed. He let Fernando curl round him before he pulled the duvet over them and pulled him close. 

“I’ve got no idea… But don’t Google it.” Mark smiled, pushing his lips to the top of Fernando’s head again. 

“Web… Onso…” Fernando muttered. “Web… Onso… Webonso…Web… Onso… Web-Onso… Beginning of your surname and the end of mine…”

“Yeah...” Mark frowned; feeling more uncomfortable about the weird hybrid word the more Fernando said it. “Just promise you won’t Google it.”

“Promise.” Fernando muttered, sinking closer to Mark. It was quiet for a few minutes. “Mark?”

“Fernando.” Mark sighed softly. 

“Am sorry.” Fernando sighed, closing his eyes and linking Mark and his fingers together. Mark tilted his chin up and kissed him softly. 

“I know you are. It’s alright.” Mark said soothingly cradling Fernando to the side of his body. Fernando relaxed instantaneously whereas Mark stayed alert with wide eyes, trying to form a damage control plan. It was definitely not all right and Mark felt a lump of nausea wedge in his throat and nervousness tingle through his body. However calm and cool he was acting for Fernando he was definitely not all right with this…

Not at all. 

\- - - - - - - - - - -

Heikki heard the slamming before he even got close to the room. Sebastian was in his cool down room/office (‘The Room’ having been restored back to it’s old store cupboard role) and Heikki quickened his step to get there faster. He settled for a gentle jog and nearly ran straight into Rocky. 

“Thank God you’re here. He won’t let anyone in. He’s just breaking things from what we can hear.” Rocky said, resting a hand on Heikki’s shoulder. Heikki tucked the data files under his arm and walked to Seb’s room with Rocky. There were a few other personal hovering around, hoping to find out what the drama was about. 

“Has anyone tried the door?” Heikki said, noting that it was open by a fraction. Everyone looked around at everyone else confirming to Heikki that they hadn’t. Heikki rolled his eyes and pushed the door open, closing it behind him and locking it. He turned around to see all of Sebastian’s things strewn everywhere. There was data flung across the room, broken lamps, a glass water bottle smashed on the floor dampening everything within a certain radius to it, books tossed from their shelves, the assortment of little mementos that had sat on his desk were buried somewhere in the mess and then there was Seb himself. He slammed the lid of his laptop down and picked it up, turning towards the open window. 

“Seb! Stop!” Heikki yelled, catching his arm as he was about to propel the thing out into the car park. Seb’s jaw was locked tight and he was grinding his teeth together. Heikki took the laptop from his hands and Seb growled at him, kicking things across the floor. Heikki sat at the desk and opened the laptop back up. 

“The FUCKER!” Seb screamed, hurling a trainer at his noticeboard and making all the things drop from it in synchronisation with a loud thud. Heikki flinched as he spoke, the loudness of his voice catching him off guard. His eyes were about to return to the screen when an engineering textbook came flying towards his head. He ducked just in time and turned to see it fly out of the open window. Seb paused for a moment, frowning at the disappearance of the book before he turned back to the shelf and started pulling things off it. Heikki was just glad he wasn’t tall enough to reach the trophies. 

“He’s not supposed to want people to know!” Seb yelled, throwing the other trainer across the room and taking out the only lamp that wasn’t broken. It fell to the floor with a crack. “He’s supposed to be scared shitless I’m going to tell someone!” Seb lashed out at the pile of broken things on the floor before he sat heavily onto his massage bed. Heikki watched him for a moment, but the German just sat, breathing heavily with his fists tightly clenched. Heikki took the lull of activity as an opportunity to see what Seb had read that got him so riled up. Though Heikki already had a good idea even before he read the article title; he had read something disturbing in the newspaper... 

ALONSO AND WEBBER REVEAL RELATIONSHIP VIA TWITTER AS THE BALL DROPS

Heikki swallowed, the title of the article confirming he was right about why Sebastian was pissed, and began to read the article.

Just gone midnight, CET time, Fernando Alonso, two-time World Champion and Ferrari Formula One driver, published a photo of himself and ex-rival and close friend Mark Webber in an intimate position. The image was captioned: “Have a great New Year everybody. Let’s hope for luck and good fortune!” This gave no reference to the relationship status of the two drivers, but the picture – as seen below – gives away enough sufficient evidence to know that the two are in an intimate relationship that has them either married or engaged…

“He’s supposed to care about it enough to hide it.” Seb seethed from his seat opposite Heikki. Heikki wasn’t sure if Seb was talking to him or himself. He scrolled down the webpage a little to see the picture that Fernando apparently posted online last night, but then shut the lid abruptly, his skin crawling uncomfortably. “You know what the worst part is?” Seb asked, looking over to Heikki. Heikki shook his head a little and Seb scoffed. “People are acting like this is normal.”

“He might have done it to beat you to the punch. Maybe his fear pushed him to say ‘fuck it’.” Heikki suggested. It just made Seb more annoyed. 

“And they’re fucking married as well…” Seb seethed, his voice showing his distain. Heikki tried to force the image Fernando had posted out of his head, but it was haunting his thoughts. “Makes you feel sick, doesn’t it…” Seb sighed and Heikki nodded. 

“They might be engaged… No one seems to know…” Heikki commented. 

“I’ve got to get something back. This is shit, it’s all gone.” Seb said, dropping his head in his hands. The baby. The hold over Mark. Nothing. There was nothing left for him to use. He had lost all that power. Heikki moved across the room and sat next to him. 

“You’ve just got to be patient. The moment will arise.”

“No, Heikki, I’ve got to humiliate him. It’ll be easier now Mark’s not here, sticking his nose in it.” Seb stated, a new determination in his voice. He turned to Heikki. “We’ve got to get everything we can. Any information, any photos, anything. I want you to make a Twitter account, some fake Ferrari name or something. Follow them both, collect information. That’s your job now.” Seb said and Heikki nodded. Seb got up and walked around the room. “Find out if they are engaged or married. If they’re engaged, find out when their wedding is, who is going. Then see if you can find a way of getting to see it. We can try another article like 2010 – that totally messed Mark up. Maybe we can fracture them before they even begin… Or maybe we film the wedding, if it hasn’t already happened… Not sure Mark would be so happy to see that online.” Seb stopped and gave Heikki his usual smirk. Heikki was glad to see him coming back to his normal self. 

“Not at all.” Heikki smiled. Seb resumed his pacing.

“I’ve got to enlist someone. Someone I know can help. But they’ve got to unknowingly help…” Heikki watched Seb walk round in circles. There was quiet for a while whilst Seb was just thinking. Pacing. Kicking crap across the room accidently. Pacing. Muttering to himself. Pacing… Heikki just sat on his hands, waiting for Seb to say something else or tell him to get on with the Twitter thing. Seb suddenly clicked his fingers and pointed at Heikki, a twisted grin pulling onto his face. Heikki echoed it, sitting up straighter. 

“You’ve got somebody?” Heikki asked happily. Seb nodded, smile growing wider. 

“Oh, I’ve got somebody.”

\- - - - - - - - - - -

Fernando was sitting on the sofa tapping his pen on his notepad as he waited for Mark to get off the phone. Mark was pacing in front of him again. Fernando was starting to get sick of it. The second mug of tea Fernando had made Mark was slowly getting cold on the side. Mark had barely acknowledged Fernando had put it down for him. It was getting annoying now. Mark was on and off the phone talking about things that Fernando couldn’t hear. He kept leaving the room or sitting away from him so Fernando couldn’t read a text. Fernando folded his arms and sighed loudly. Mark sent him a look before turning his back and walking across to the other side of the room. Fernando put the notepad and pen down and followed him. Mark took him in for a moment before turning his head away slightly. 

“Ok, well thanks anyway…. Huh?... Yes, exactly that…. Listen, I’ve got to go now, unless there is anything else…No?.... Alright…. Talk to you later… Bye…” Mark hung up the phone and pushed it into his pocket looking at Fernando. “What?”

“What are you doing?” Fernando exasperated. Mark shook his head and moved back through to the sofa with the notepad on it. He sat down. Fernando stood in front of him. “Mark.”

“What?”

“Who do you keep calling?”

“It’s not important.”

“Why are you not telling me?” Fernando asked, sitting next to Mark. Mark ran a hand through his hair. 

“Because it’s not important.” Mark breathed. Fernando picked up his notepad again.

“Are we actually going to do this or is it not important enough?” Fernando spat, moodily crossing his legs up on the chair. Mark gave he a sorry-filled look. 

“Of course this is important, Fernando.” Mark gave a small smile, rubbing Fernando’s leg.

“Why are you stressed?” Fernando’s voice softened and filled with worry. Mark’s tone turned sharp again.

“I’m not.” Fernando blinked confused by Mark’s sudden change of tone. He emulated it. 

“Are.”

“Can we not talk about it? Let’s just do this, yeah?” Mark said with tired eyes. Fernando wanted to refuse but found himself picking up the pen and turning to Mark anyway. They were trying to get a rough plan done for the wedding. Although it was just a registry wedding they still wanted to make a day of it. They were starting with the guest list, which was what they had been doing before Mark answered the phone call. Fernando had formulated a list of people and was running it by Mark before he was going to check it off the to-do list. Fernando began, again, from the top of the list, counting off the guests on his fingers. He suddenly looked up to see Mark was texting someone on his phone. Fernando exasperated, giving up. 

“Mmm… Yeah…” Mark said, pretending to listen as he focused on his phone. Fernando folded his arms and glared at Mark. 

“Are not even listening to me, are you?” Fernando spat. Mark still kept his eyes on his phone. 

“Yeah… Always a laugh…”

“Is good because I was planning on wearing absolutely nothing for the ceremony.” Fernando seethed venomously with sarcasm replacing his voice. 

“Mmm… Wait, what?” Mark frowned, turning to face Fernando.

“So you are listening.” Fernando added sarcastically as he got up and slammed the notepad on the table before stalking out of the room. 

“Of course I’m listening.” Mark called after him. The Australian sighed before getting up and following him. He walked into the kitchen, his phone still in his hand. “Fernando?” Mark walked down to the French doors and looking out into the garden. Fernando wasn’t there. He ran a hand through his hair before sighing and turning back into the kitchen. As he opened the kitchen door to the hallway, Fernando stood in front of him. Mark opened his mouth to speak but the Spaniard took the phone from his hand. “Fernando!” Mark yelled angrily, reaching to take it back. Fernando moved it out of his reach, turning on the spot and checking through Mark’s text messages. He hadn’t locked the phone but even if he had have done Fernando knew the code to unlock it. Lorena, Andrea, Leanne, Alan, Jenson, Jessica… The list went on. And it seemed Mark was just texting everyone to make sure no press had arrived. Fernando turned back to Mark.

“You are serious? Are checking up on people?” Fernando said in disbelief. Mark snatched his phone back. 

“It’s not important.” Mark snapped. Fernando caught his shoulder. 

“Mark, you need to calm down.”

“You’re the one posting our personal life all over the Internet.” Mark barked, moving back through to the lounge. Fernando followed him. 

“If I had put the first one up they would have got rumours.” Fernando said, following Mark through the house. 

“Exactly. Perfect.” Mark seethed. 

“No. If there is rumours people want to talk to us more. What new thing will they get if they question us now? Nothing. Please just calm down.” Fernando said, touching Mark’s shoulder. Mark shrugged him off. 

“You can hide behind a rumour, Fernando.”

“But we are not wanting to hide, no? Thought this was what we agreed?” Mark sat heavily on the chair and sighed. 

“I don’t know, Fernando.”

“You have to talk to me, Mark. Can help.” Fernando perched next to him and rubbed his arm softly. Mark wanted to pull him close at the same time as wanting to punch him in the face. Why did they have to not be secret anymore? Mark liked the peace that brought. But he had had the chance to stop Fernando and he didn’t. Some part of him must have wanted it to be public too. That part of him didn’t know it was going to ignite this fear... “I make us lunch, yes? Then we can talk about this and then we will relax and go through the guest list?” Fernando said softly. Mark looked over at him and nodded gently and Fernando kissed him as he left the room. Mark just sighed and dropped his phone next to him, pushing both of his hands into his hair. That fucking article from 2010 just kept swimming in his mind, forcing him to be pushed back into the limelight. He was done with all the politics. He just wanted to race the car and go home. That’s why he had gone to Porsche. Out of the limelight. Mark didn’t know what to do. 

Fernando and he ate their lunch pretty much in silence. Fernando hated not knowing what was going on with Mark. He just wanted to understand so he could help and get Mark to relax. The idea was that they could be happy and didn’t have to hide anymore. Mark seemed to be more against the idea of ‘them’ now that ever and it had Fernando worrying he regretted his decision of asking to marry him. And Mark’s silence wasn’t helping that aspect. 

“Mark-”

“-Thanks. That was nice.” Mark said bluntly, getting to his feet and heading out of the room. Fernando caught his wrist. 

“Are worrying me.” Fernando’s voice broke slightly as he spoke and Mark’s posture deflated. He turned his head to look at Fernando.

“Sorry about that.” Mark muttered, not sure as to what else to say. Fernando got up and cupped his face with both of his hands. 

“Talk to me.” Fernando whispered. Mark looked deep into his eyes, trying to find some way of conveying his fears without actually admitting them. He knew how stupid they were. He opened his mouth to say something when there was a knock on the door. Mark took the opportunity to move from Fernando’s hold and headed to the door, trying to ignore the irritated sigh he heard from his fiancée. Mark padded down the hallway and opened the door, his jaw instantly locking. Fernando followed him to be faced with a furious Mark glaring at him. Fernando retreated a step, a small frown on his face. 

“Mark, you need to calm down.” Andrea said as he crossed the threshold. He took it upon himself to close the door as Mark was more interested in glaring at Fernando. 

“You called him?” Mark spat, infuriated by the fact Fernando had to get someone in to try and talk to him. Fernando shook his head, reaching out to touch Mark’s shoulder but stopping just short. 

“No, Mark, I-”

“-Came myself.” Andrea said, causing Mark to whip his head round. Andrea shrugged out of his coat and hung it on a spare hook, toeing off his shoes, before picking up the stack of files he had brought with him and looking at Mark. “Had to deliver these to Fernando anyway.” Andrea walked past Mark and handed Fernando the files before walking into the kitchen. Mark pushed past Fernando, who followed him, to shadow Andrea and find the Italian making himself happily at home, boiling the kettle. Mark folded his arms. 

“Thanks. Now you can go, yeah?” Mark’s even tone shook as Andrea gave a small smile. 

“Really need to calm down.” Andrea commented, getting three mugs from the cupboard. Fernando put the files on the table beside Mark and his abandoned plates and turned to face Andrea. Andrea looked over to him. “Here.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Fernando, showing him the display that read twelve unread messages from Mark. 

“Has been texting everyone.” Fernando commented, handing Andrea his phone back. Andrea shrugged. 

“Not surprising. Is panicking we will have a repeat of 2010.” Andrea moved over to the fridge to get the milk out and Fernando turned to Mark. 

“What?”

“He is worried that the press are going to put you both under the microscope like they did in 2010 to him, which is understandable.” Andrea continued, pouring hot water and putting tea bags into the mugs. He set the kettle down. “But what he does not know is that article was orchestrated by Sebastian.” There was a shocked pause in the room where Andrea stirred the tea casually. 

“What?” Mark asked, mouth gone dry and wide eyed. Andrea didn’t take his eyes off the drinks. 

“Sebastian made these comments to the press. Explained how you apparently had a particular opinion for each driver and if they looked into your interviews enough they would find it. Obviously, as your teammate, he was a hard source to ignore. He asked them if he could stay anonymous though; he pretended he felt bad for saying anything… Acting all humble and that bollocks.” 

“And how long have you known this?”

“I remember Rocky coming around asking all us race engineers about your relationship with our drivers. It was confusing at first, but when he left his notepad in a drivers meeting and I took it to him, a piece of paper fell out that had all the notes written on it about everyone on the grid.”

“And it didn’t occur to you to tell me - no, us - this before?” Mark’s tone was still agitated and Andrea turned to him, with one eyebrow raised and his arms folded. 

“Stop avoiding the point.” Andrea said sternly. Mark scoffed before turning away, keeping his back to the Italian. Fernando looked over to him. 

“So this is why you are panic-texting everyone? You don’t want them to give the press anything that can be twisted against us?” Fernando asked softly. Mark bent over towards the counter, pressing his palms flatly into the surface. He closed his eyes.

“Mark, you need to talk to us.” Andrea said, handing Fernando a mug of tea. “We want to help.” Andrea placed the third mug next to Mark before retreating to lean against the opposite work surface. No one spoke for a moment. Everything was quiet and no one moved. Fernando passed Andrea a look of concern before putting his mug down and moving over to Mark. He snaked his arms around Mark’s waist and pressed his cheek into his back. Kissing slowly along Mark’s shoulder, Fernando rested his chin on it and pressed his lips to Mark’s ear.

“Mark, por favor, sólo quiero ayudar…” Fernando muttered, not expecting Mark to understand. Mark, however, did. Mark turned to face Fernando and rested their foreheads together. He couldn’t find any words. There wasn’t anything he could say to make Fernando understand. It was stupid, but he was worried about what the press were going to do. Were they going to ask all of their friends and family and twist the words they said to fit the media’s malice needs? Or would someone accidently, and unknowingly, reveal the date of the wedding and then the journalists would flock in. Mark and Fernando had decided they didn’t want the media to know about the wedding. It was just to be small, with their closest friends and family. They had about ten people they were going to invite and that was enough. They didn’t want the whole world to know because some things were supposed to be private. Mark pulled Fernando closer to him by the hips and just held him close, hoping Fernando would understand without him having to say a word again. 

“Mark, I know you are scared and you have all the right in the world to be. What he did back then with the article was wrong and what he has done recently has clearly made you dubious that he will do it again. Can promise we will not say anything, even if they do come and ask, Mark.” Andrea smiled from across the room. Mark let Fernando go a little and nodded. Fernando pulled himself back into Mark’s embrace. “I will leave you.” Andrea said, putting his empty mug in the sink and moving out of the kitchen. Fernando kissed Mark briefly on the lips before walking out behind Andrea to see him to the door. Mark sunk down until he was sitting on the floor and pressed his palms to his face. 

“Thank you.” Fernando said as Andrea opened the door. Andrea nodded, turning back.

“Make sure he talks to you. He needs to talk about this.”

“Do not understand why he is so upset. Is just one photo.” Andrea put a hand on Fernando’s shoulder.

“Fernando, is not the photo, is what the photo leads to. Is not a secret anymore. Everyone knows and everyone will ask.”

“I know. Ask him before I posted it and he said fine.”

“Is still going to be hard, Fernando. You have got to support each other. Know you will because it is you two but you need to help him accept that no one is going to turn against him. We are all behind you and we will not see anyone ruin this for you. People will have their different opinions but it is important he knows he is not alone.” Andrea said and Fernando nodded. They shared a hug before the Italian headed back over to his car and left. Fernando shut the door softly and headed back to the kitchen. 

“Mark?” He asked, entering the room and not being able to see the Australian. A shuddery gasp for air behind him made him turn to see Mark crumpled on the floor. He fell down beside him and tried to pull as much of him as close to his body as possible. “Mark, please…” Fernando cooed as Mark tried to move away. Fernando’s hold on him tightened and finally Mark fell into his embrace, clinging tightly and gasping for air. Fernando stroked his hair, feeling entirely useless. Once Mark caught his breath his words tumbled from his mouth. And Fernando captured them all, taking them in and putting them together to fully understand Mark’s worries, the reason he was scared. And as he spoke, it seemed to be so blatantly clear to Fernando the Spaniard was confused as to why he hadn’t seen it. 

“Mark. Listen… No, you have to listen to me.” Fernando said as Mark sat up, adjusting himself to move away again. Fernando pulled him close and cupped his face with his hands, forcing Mark to look at him. His bloodshot eyes forced a lump into Fernando’s throat, making his voice sound weary and broken. “No one will do this to us. And even if they do what should that matter? The people who matter care and they will not hurt us. They are happy for us. We are happy together and even if the whole world hates us is not going to break us. Are stronger than any of them, Mark. Would give the world before I gave up you. Please. Just… We are strong, Mark. Not even a shitty press release will break us apart.” 

“I’m being stupid.” Mark said thickly, with a shuddery breath, looking into Fernando’s eyes. 

“Are not. Is Ok to be scared.” Fernando brushed his fingers under Mark’s eyes to catch the falling tears.

“I just feel…” Mark started, but he felt so stupid the sentence became non-existent. 

“Feel what?” Fernando encouraged, pushing himself closer to Mark. Mark straightened his legs out to wrap them around Fernando’s body, looking deep into his eyes. 

“I don’t want to loose you…” Mark voice broke into pieces on his small sentence and he fell apart in Fernando’s arms. Fernando could feel his own eyes stinging, threatening to spill over onto his cheeks. 

“Cannot.” Fernando swallowed his tears, making his voice gulp uncomfortably. 

“Last time… That article… I was so worried of what it would do to us, Fer... I can’t…” Mark threw himself into Fernando’s chest and clung to his so tightly all the breath was pushed from Fernando’s body. Fernando cradled Mark’s head and kissed the top of his head. 

“This is right; you cannot loose me, Mark.” Fernando cooed, rubbing softly on the back of Mark’s back. 

“I was-was so worried you would think it was… It was true… Th-the-they made it sound like I-I-I wah… I was obsessed… What if… What if they do it again?” Mark stuttered into Fernando’s chest. Fernando pulled Mark closer, kissing down the side of his face. They were desperate, messy kissing outlining his jaw. Leaving a combination of both of their tears on Mark’s face. Fernando kissed against Mark’s heavily breathing mouth until he felt Mark kissing back, gripping him tighter, the sounds of his gasps for air diminishing. Fernando pushed his hands into Mark’s hair, dragging him closer, refusing to let either of them break for air until his lungs were screaming at him. Fernando fell back slightly, restricted from going too far by the tightness of Mark’s arms around him. Both of them panted slightly, drying tears sparkling on their cheeks as Mark pressed his forehead to Fernando’s.

“Never… Never thought that.” Fernando muttered, playing absent-mindedly with the hair at the back of Mark’s neck and staring deep into his eyes. “Never. I ignore all of it, Mark. Would not let something so stupid get between us. And now this. Nothing. I promise. Te amo, Mark. Yo nunca te dejaré. Nunca. Cannot live…” Fernando broke off his words by stealing Mark’s lips again. He cupped Mark’s cheek and looked deeply into his eyes. Fernando spoke in Spanish, feeling more confident in expressing himself knowing Mark couldn’t understand him. Or Fernando thought he couldn’t understand him. “Creo que no puedo vivir sin ti físicamente. Usted me termina. No hay nadie más que haya hecho alguna vez me siento así. No puedo nunca te dejaré. Te amo tanto. A veces siento que no puedo respirar si no está aquí. Pero usted está siempre aquí...” Fernando placed one hand over his heart, his eyes sparkling with tears again. What he didn’t know was that Mark could understand every word. “…En mi corazón. Te quiero, Mark. Te amo tanto.” Mark crashed his lips against Fernando’s so harshly he was sure it would bruise. 

Fernando lent back, feeling Mark’s legs uncurl from around him as he was laid gently onto the floor, Keeping Mark close with one hand in his hair and the other on the small of his back. Mark laid on top of him, keeping his weight off him with his arms. But it became too much for both of them; the distance between them. Fernando’s hand slid down to Mark’s arse and pushed them together. Both giving a soft moan as their groins rubbed together. Mark climbed off Fernando, helping him to his feet. Because that wasn’t the point right now, the point was that they were being together, so much so. Fernando looked up at Mark breathlessly and Mark pushed the stray locks of hair out of Fernando’s face. His second hand came up to cup Fernando’s cheek and Fernando rose up on his toes to let Mark push their lips together again. Fernando wrapped his arms around Mark’s ribs as the Australian pushed him backwards until he bumped into the wall lightly. Fernando gasped as Mark kissed down his jawline and relentlessly attacked his neck delicately. Fernando’s eyes rolled shut and his head fell back against the wall behind him as his grip wove its way into Mark’s hair and tightened. There was no space between their bodies. Mark’s hand was holding Fernando’s neck whist the other was wrapped around his waist, pulling his hips closer. A small moan passed from Fernando’s mouth and Mark smiled against his skin, releasing it. He kissed Fernando fully on his lips and felt him shiver slightly in his grasp. Mark rested one hand against the wall beside Fernando’s head, the other still wrapped tightly around his waist. Fernando looked up at him with dark, lust-filled eyes. 

“Mi todo…” Fernando breathed, running his hand across Mark’s face into his hair. But Mark beat him to the end of the sentence. 

“Te amo…” Mark said, so full of love Fernando felt like he was going to scream in happiness. His lips broke into a smile before he could even consider stopping them. He pulled Mark back to him for another deep kiss. “Never going to leave me, eh?” Mark smirked as Fernando rested his arms around his neck and his own hands settled on Fernando’s hips. Fernando shook his head. 

“Never. Not now you gave me this.” Fernando moved his left hand from around Mark’s neck briefly to show the engagement ring on his finger. He sighed happily as he placed his arm back around Mark’s neck. “Are stuck with me forever.”

“Not a problem.” Mark smirk got wider and he nuzzled at Fernando face and kissed him again. Fernando hummed contently as they broke apart and gazed into Mark’s eyes adoringly. Neither of them wanted to move. Neither of them ever wanted to look away again. Mark sighed deeply as he let his arms unweave from around Fernando. He took Fernando’s hand tightly in his own and led him back into the lounge with the notepad and the short list of names. He sat down, constantly holding Fernando’s hand as the Spaniard picked up the notepad. Mark let Fernando sit in front of him, pressing his back into his chest, before wrapping his arms and legs around him and resting his head on his shoulder. Fernando shuffled backwards into Mark’s hold and hummed contently. “So, who have we got on this list then?” Mark asked, placing a kiss into Fernando’s neck.

It wasn’t that his worry and his panic had vanished because Fernando had said a few wonderful words, but the fact that Fernando had said them with such passion made it all so much easier to deal with. And to know that whatever was said wouldn’t take Fernando away from him… He gripped Fernando tighter, kissing his neck again, feeling his fiancée squirm slightly and pleasantly in his grip. And so even if some dickhead journalist wanted to twist the things people said and it broke Mark into so many pieces he wasn’t sure he would even be able to fix himself, it didn’t matter. Because Fernando would fix him. Fernando would never leave him broken. They’d been through too much and they loved each other too much. 

“Mark?” Fernando asked, turning his head to look at Mark, the notepad resting on his crossed legs. Mark kissed his cheek before looking at him. 

“Yes, darling,” Mark smiled, making Fernando blush bright red.

“Are you listening?” Mark dragged his lips across the red streak on Fernando’s cheek. 

“Always.”

\- - - -

Dasha clicked her seatbelt around her waist and tightened it, flinching a little in fear of squashing the small bump on her stomach - barely noticeable, but still there. She loosened the belt a little and looked down at her stomach, rubbing her hand across it soothingly and letting herself smile. She rested her head back on the headrest behind her and looked out the small circular window. She could see the airport moving slowly around the back of the plane as they moved, heading for take off. The airhostess that had shown her to her seat was standing in front of them in a blue suit, pointing out the fire escapes, whilst another woman explain how to disconnect the door and inflate the life jackets. 

Dasha smiled a little to herself, imagining seeing Fernando tomorrow. She was excited to explain and get everything sorted out before asking about the wedding… Wedding. Dasha’s smile faltered a little at that thought, but she blinked her eyes and shook the weird feeling away. She sat back in the chair, gripping the armrest as the speed of the plane picking up. She hated take off. The unnatural pull at her navel as the aeroplane soared up into the sky, the rumble of the engine. Dasha closed her eyes and swallowed as the rumble grew louder and she felt herself tipping backwards as they soared into the air. 

“Are you alright?” Someone muttered in her ear. She blinked her eyes open and turned to look at the man sitting beside her with the short brown hair. There was something about his eyes that seemed a little familiar, but she pushed past it. Lots of people had green eyes like that. She tried to smile but the plane lurched upwards more and she gasped, slamming her eyes closed. The man took in her pale face and took hold of her hand. “It’s going to be Ok.” He muttered softly. She nodded a little, fighting the nausea that was crawling up her throat. Once they were securely in the air and the seat belt sign was turned off she took a deep breath and open her eyes slowly. “Not a good flyer?” The man gave a small soft chuckle. Dasha turned to him, blushing slightly. 

“Not on take off. Hate the sensation.” She admitted, sitting up. Her hand fell protectively on her stomach. The man’s eyes fell to it before returning to her face. 

“So, what takes you to Spain…? The man gave a pause, indicating for Dasha to give her name, holding out his hand. 

“Dasha.” She smiled, taking the man’s hand. There was a short pause.

“Hamlet.” The man smiled. Dasha took her hand back and placed it on her stomach. 

“Nice name.” Dasha smiled, turning to look out of the window at the clouds. 

“Thank you.” Hamlet said, keeping his eyes flitting between Dasha’s face and the hand on her stomach. “So what is taking you to Spain?”

“I’m going to a wedding.” Dasha grinned radiantly, turning to face him. There was no way this random man could know whose. His face lit up, a small look of surprise in his eyes. 

“Ah! Wonderful. I’m going to a boring conference on marketing for my company.” Hamlet said, offering the information uninvited. Dasha just nodded, not knowing what to do with the information. 

“I’m sure it won’t be too bad.” Hamlet shrugged at her comment. 

“Maybe not…” His voice faded off and Dasha frowned at him. He blushed. “I hope you don’t mind me asking… But… Are you… Pregnant?” He said wearily. Dasha gave him a small laugh. 

“Can you tell?” She asked sweetly. He blushed more and shook his head.

“You’ve got the glow about you…” 

“Yeah, that’s morning sickness…”

“…And you’re hand hasn’t moved from your stomach since I’ve sat down…” 

“Well then I suppose I have to tell you yes.” Dasha smiled and Hamlet became more relaxed. 

“Congratulations. How far are you?”

“Just over eight weeks… Maybe nine?” Dasha blushed at her own forgetfulness. She had it written down in her diary. It suddenly became clear to Dasha that her nausea hadn’t passed. It had normal gone by now when she was flying. Just a nervous take off thing. But she was suddenly overcome by a feeling she had felt too much recently. And she rolled her eyes at herself, all hope of keeping down her breakfast vanishing. “Excuse me.” She said to Hamlet, unclipping her belt and pulling her small hand luggage bag from underneath the seat, placing it on her now vacant seat. Hamlet got up and let her out from beside the window. “Could you just keep an eye on my bag for me please?” She asked softly as he sat back down. He gave her a sympathetic nod as she moved down the cabin and into the bathroom, her hands resting by her sides. 

She couldn’t wait to be done with this morning sickness.


	35. Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Effective communication is 20% what you know and 80% how you feel about what you know” ~Jim Rohn~

Dasha was tapping her phone impatiently on her knee, looking round at the door of the little café. She hated this waiting around. She was already too nervous as it was. There was just this bubbling fear under her skin that she couldn’t shift. It was corrupting her every good thought. She took several deep breaths along with a shaky sip of the water in front of her. Her hand rubbed her stomach softly and she found the motion soothing. When she turned to face the door again, she saw them. Mark was wearing dark blue denim jeans with a light round neck shirt and a dark cardigan. Fernando had lighter jeans on and had a hoodie on that looked much to big on him. But Mark’s arm was wrapped tightly around Fernando’s waist; now having no worries that people could accidently find out about them. 

Dasha felt a pang of that strange feeling she felt on the plane pulse through her but she pushed it away, standing up and smiling at Fernando and Mark. Mark held his hand up to her with a small grin, acknowledging the fact that he had seen her there, before turning back to Fernando. She saw him mutter something in Fernando’s ear and getting the Spaniard to nod a little, looking at the floor. He then pressed his lips to Fernando’s temple and brought his arm from around him, taking his hand. Dasha turned away, blushing, feeling that she had watched something she was never meant to see. 

“Hey, Dasha.” Mark smiled as he brought Fernando over to her. Fernando stood slightly behind Mark’s shoulder. Dasha smiled at them both, pulling Mark into a hug. 

“Thank you.” She muttered in Mark’s ear before letting him go. They both turned to Fernando who gave a small smile. Dasha pulled him into a hug and Mark let go of his hand. “It’s good to see you.” Dasha sighed, feeling relieved to feel Fernando’s arms come around her. Dasha pulled back and took a seat. Mark and Fernando took the seats in front of her. 

“And you.” Fernando smiled, taking Mark’s hand again under the table. “How are you?”

“I’m good… We’re good.” Dasha smiled, placing her hand on her stomach. An awkward silence threatened to creep in between them. “Erm… So, congratulations! I was so happy when you told me.” Mark looked to Fernando before smiling back at Dasha. 

“Yeah. And it’s great you can come…” Mark could sense the conversation was fractured and it was increasingly painful to be involved in. He looked between Fernando and Dasha, trying to find some way to get them to the point of the conversation they each want to be at, but it seemed to be such a tabooed area that no one wanted to venture into it. Mark sighed. “Alright. So let’s talk about this.” Mark said, shattering the glassy wall between them and a highly awkward situation. Fernando looked up at Mark with wide, frightened eyes but Mark just squeezed his hand tighter. “Let’s start with how this all happened.” Dasha was uncomfortable with Mark’s abruptness and nearly left out of disgust. But she wanted her chance to explain her side of things to Fernando and here she was being given that. She couldn’t turn up that offer. 

Dasha started in a soft, weak and apologetic voice, making it difficult for either of the men to really work out what Sebastian had done or what had happened. Mark watched Fernando out of the corner of his eye, noting how unhelpful this was for him. This was supposed to be Fernando’s closure to the incident and Dasha wasn’t making any sense. 

“I think the best way to do this is for you to stop apologising first,” Mark said in a soft tone and Dasha blushed a little, sinking back into her chair. “And also if Fernando asks you some questions. That might just make this a little easier.” Mark commented before he got up. Fernando gripped his hand in a vice-tight hold and Mark winced at the pressure. He bent down to Fernando’s height. “It’s alright, mate. I’m just going to get a drink. I’ll be right back.” Mark cooed, placing a soft kiss on Fernando’s lips. Dasha turned away. Fernando sighed and nodded a little, letting go of Mark’s hand. “What do you want?”

“Just a…” Fernando voice was horse and it shook horribly as he spoke. Dasha turned back to him, pain and sympathy too clear in her eyes. Fernando cleared his throat. “Just a lemonade please.”

“I’ll be right back. Ask her a question.” Mark said softly, kissing Fernando’s forehead before moving away from the table and heading over to the food counter. Mark had really left because he felt it would be easier for the two of them to discuss this without him there. Or at least start the discussion. The woman behind the counter smiled brilliantly at Mark as he came over and Mark’s jaw dropped to the floor. “You!” Mark exclaimed and the woman blushed and smiled, nodding gently. 

“It’s good to see you.” Dasha said again, trying to make Fernando say something to her. Fernando’s eyes were trained on Mark’s back. The sudden light brush of his fingertips made Fernando’s gaze snap down to his hand and then up to Dasha; she had leant across the table to touch his hand. Fernando withdrew his hand and felt a stone-like expression pull onto his face. Dasha sighed, moving her hand back to her stomach. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry, Fernando. I never meant to hurt you in this way. Seb just said-”

“-Do not call him that.” Fernando spat, shocked at how aggressive he had become. He didn’t understand himself, but when Dasha looked up at him with tear-filled eyes he felt some of his tenacity dissolve. 

“I thought you said we are Ok. You invited me to your wedding…” Dasha muttered more to herself than Fernando. Fernando sat forwards a bit.

“We are.” He said, but his voice gave another message. Dasha shook her head, reaching for her bag. 

“This was a mistake.”

“No, Dash. Was not. Need you to tell me. Need to understand what he did.” Fernando said, not making any sign to move and stop her if she did continue to leave. But his eyes were pleading her to stay. Dasha looked at him for a moment, reading all of this in his face before sighing and putting her bag back down. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say…” Dasha muttered, spinning her glass of water between her hands and keeping her eyes on it. 

“Do not want you to say anything in particular…” Fernando muttered, his eyes falling back on Mark. Mark who still hadn’t moved from his position leaning against the counter. Fernando frowned at him. 

“It was his idea… Not to tell you…” Dasha muttered, still looking at her hands. Fernando turned back to her. 

“Who?”

“Seb.” Dasha paused and looked up at Fernando before adding: “-Astian. Sebastian. It was his idea. He said it was best. I was confused and scared and I felt horrible for what had happened.”

“And what had happened?” Fernando asked, his voice sounding cold and harsh. Dasha swallowed dryly. 

“We… I didn’t mean to… But he… And I…” Fernando watched Dasha as she floundered for words, a frown setting deeper into his face as he couldn’t understand what she was trying to say. Dasha looked up at him and took a shaky sip of her water before she set the glass down and took a deep breath. “I got pregnant with his child.” Dasha aired in a whisper. All of the air was knocked out of Fernando. That wasn’t what he meant. That wasn’t why they were here. Fernando just wanted to understand why. But Dasha’s blunt confirmation that what had happened had really happened had him gasping for something to hold onto. His fingers bunched into the material of his jeans tightly and he looked over to Mark. What the fuck was he doing? Fernando could feel everything tumbling around him and he was scared Mark wouldn’t be there to catch him on this one. 

“Is not what I… Did not mean this…. Question… I…” Fernando muttered, feeling the heat rise into his cheeks. Dasha breathed slowly, focusing on the features of his face. They always made her relax: the sweep of his jaw, the rough path of hair across his chin, the curls of hair that refused to stay away from his eyes if he let it grow too long. She barely noticed he was falling apart in front of her. She was too busy trying to keep hold of herself. 

“I never meant for this to happen. You need to know that. This was never a plan. I was happy when I initially found out about Mark and you. Happy I could keep you with me and make you feel some of the hurt I felt. But that day in Brazil with the cake. Fernando, I knew I had lost you a long time ago at that point. I didn’t want to cause you pain anymore. I could see… I could see you had what I wanted us to have. Maybe it was never mine to have with you. Maybe that was why events panned out like they did. But I never meant to hurt you like I did. Seb played it, shit – sorry. Sebastian played it so well. He forced me into a corner so it meant even if I was happy for you there was nothing I could do. I don’t know why he did it but he did. And I’m sorry for my involvement…” Dasha spoke continuously, pausing only momentarily to flip her eyes up to Fernando then back to her glass. Fernando could barely register her words. It was too much. All too much. His grip on his thigh had intensified and he could feel the sharp pain stinging into his thigh. 

“Why?” Mark said from behind Dasha. Dasha turned to follow him with her gaze as he put the drinks on the table and sat back down next to Fernando. Dasha didn’t see, but Mark pried Fernando’s fingers from his leg and held then tightly in his own. He held Fernando back from curling into his side, burying his face into his chest though. Now really wasn’t the time or place for Fernando to dissolve. There would be later. Locked away in the safety of their home. Dasha’s eyes rested on Fernando who was starting down at Mark and his interlocked fingers. 

“He… He has been saying for ages how you have a vendetta against me.” Dasha said, directing her voice towards Mark. Mark nodded. “Been telling me things that have been backed up with such clear evidence I couldn’t believe that he made it up… Though I suppose he had something to do with the evidence.”

“Pretty much all of it. You shouldn’t feel too bad; he’s been manipulating other peoples movements as well.” Mark sighed. Fernando turned to look at him in disbelief. It wasn’t possible. Not Mark as well. Fernando shook his head slightly as Mark frowned down at him. He made to take his hand back. “No. Fernando, not like that.” Mark said, pulling Fernando’s hand back towards him and trapping it between both of his hands. Mark turned back to Dasha. “He’s been planning it for months, even down to getting you pregnant. He set up little drinks for just the two of us under the pretence that it was for all the drivers. That was to make you think I was trying to steal Fernando. That was to make you paranoid.” 

Well he was right. You were trying to steal Fernando. And look now: you’ve succeeded. Dasha thought venomously. She took a drink of water through pursed lips. No, she was happy for them. She didn’t wish it were her Fernando was clinging to tightly because she wanted him to be happy. And he was happy with Mark. Not her. She put the glass down slightly harshly on the table, making Fernando flinch. 

“Well it worked.” Dasha shot, folding her arms. Fernando looked over to her, confused by her sudden change of tone. Surely she should feel good that she wasn’t the only one played by Sebastian. Surely that should make her feel better about herself; that she wasn’t the only one drawn in. It seemed to have the completely opposite effect on her. 

‘Dasha-” Mark started, but Dasha sat forwards, looking towards Fernando. 

“-I was so alone. He made me think you were abandoning me. He made me feel like you didn’t care. And then every time we spoke it seemed to be a fight and we didn’t… We weren’t together for such a long time. It was too easy to believe him. He offered me what I wanted you to give me. He reminded me of what I missed receiving from you. And I was so confused and you really didn’t seem to care. It made me feel so worthless, but he had a way of making me-”

“-So really this is my fault?” Fernando spat, angered by Dasha’s apparent accusations. Dasha shook her head violently. 

“Of course not.” Dasha said quietly, because in some small way that she would never air to Fernando or Mark or anyone for that matter, she did think it was Fernando’s fault. All he had have to had done was look like he cared and none of this would have happened. They would still be together. And maybe it would have been their wedding they were planning, Mark being one of their guests. Dasha felt the heat of anger burn through her harshly. Mark didn’t deserve Fernando. It wasn’t fair. Dasha hated him. He had stolen Fernando from her. Even if Sebastian had only said it to bring a paranoia to her he was still right. This had been Mark’s plan all along. He hadn’t even waited to propose to Fernando. It had been so sudden it had made Dasha’s head spin. “It’s not because I stopped loving you, Fernando. It happened because I felt pushed away. And Seb… Sebastian. He offered me what I wanted. I would never do it again. Never. But it’s happening now and I can’t change that.”

“Never ask you to.” Fernando said, his voice back to its weak, soft state. Mark released one of his own hands from around Fernando’s and rubbed his leg softly. 

“I love you, Fernando, and I know I’ve done this to you. I would have never have even thought it was possible to hurt you in such a way. Not from how I feel about you. That’s why I hope you can forgive me. Because I can’t live life without you.” Mark watched Dasha closely, noting that she was speaking in present tense, not past. She stilled loved Fernando, and that made sense; if she didn’t Mark would be more dubious of her sadness. But the passion in her words was unsettling to him. Mark swallowed before looking down at Fernando. Fernando had pressed himself into Mark’s arm, resting his head on Mark’s shoulder. And maybe Fernando had converted Dasha’s words of love as to how he felt about Mark, thus drawing the urge to be close to him to the surface. That’s what Mark hoped anyway. 

“Forgave you long time ago, Dasha. Needed to clean the slate. Have now…. Thank you…” Fernando said softly as Mark wrapped the arm that was on his leg around his shoulder. Dasha blinked at Mark, unknowing of the fact that Mark was trying to mark his territory. He was suddenly protective of Fernando, highly so. He was weary of the fact that if she did love him as much as she said she did but could still hurt him like she had, what stopped her doing it again? 

“I have something I wanted to show you… If you want, you probably won’t…” Dasha said, her voice fading as she pulled her bag closer to her stomach. Fernando sat forwards out of Mark’s hold, their fingers still threaded together under the table, and smiled at her. 

“Would like to see.” Fernando smiled and Dasha echoed it, thrusting her hand into her bag and pulling out a small, brown envelope with an official stamp on the front. Mark watched her, a frown settling on her face as she pulled a small black and white photo out of the envelope and passed it across the table. Fernando’s posture deflated slightly and Mark sat forwards to see what Dasha had given him. A romantic photo of the two of them or a special place they had visited was what Mark assumed he would be faced with looking down into Fernando’s hand. But not this. This was harsh and smacked one definitive message straight to Fernando:

Look what I can give you that he can’t. 

Fernando swallowed and forced a smile onto his face, looking down at Dasha ultrasound in his hand. He could feel that crumpling sensation taking over his body again and the tight lump in his throat that threatened to let out choked sobs built in intensity. Mark’s arms were around him, one wrapping round his back to rest on his hip and the other clutching his hand tightly. His safety net. And Fernando breathed steadily through his nose, knowing Mark would catch him, but now wasn’t the time to fall. Mark was furious; it was clear Dasha was trying to pull Fernando back to her. And it was the cheap and hard hitting way that she was doing it that made him glare over at her. Dasha held his glare for a moment before smiling sweetly at him and leaning forwards to point out the embryo to Fernando. 

“At the moment it’s about the same size as a peanut.” Dasha grinned, placing her hand back on her stomach. Fernando couldn’t take his eyes off the image. 

“Peanut.” Fernando repeated. Mark held his hip tighter, burying his nose in the hair just behind Fernando’s ear. Looking back over at Dasha, he pressed a kiss to the soft skin there and watched the smile fall off her face. Fernando handed the photo back. “Good.”

“Very good.” Dasha smiled, pulling her eyes from Mark and taking the image back from Fernando. “I’m so happy you still want to be involved.” 

“The least I could do…” Fernando said, gripping tighter to Mark. Fernando picked up the glass of lemonade and brought it to his lips. 

“Will the dickhead leaving you high and dry, we couldn’t sit by and watch you struggle.” Mark put emphasis on the word ‘we’ as he reached round Fernando and brought his own drink to his lips. Dasha narrowed her eyes slightly at Mark before pushing the picture back in her bag. 

“Well, I really appreciate it.” Dasha said, her voice slightly cold as it was directed at Mark. Mark put his glass down and looked up at her as she stood up. “I guess I’ll see you in a few weeks then.” Fernando just nodded at her, his eyes glazed over as he slowly tipped the lemonade into his mouth. 

“Where are you staying?” Mark asked curiously. Dasha swung her bag onto her shoulder. 

“Just at a hotel, about twenty minutes from here.”

“You staying there until the wedding?” Mark asked. Dasha frowned at him slightly. 

“Yes… A few days after… Why? Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all.” Mark said with a small smile. Dasha couldn’t tell whether he was mocking her or being genuinely friendly “Just seems like a long time to stay in a hotel.”

“Well I’m going to a friends in a few days time. I’ve told her I’m out here on business.” Dasha assured and Mark nodded, taking other mouthful of his drink. “I suppose I should let you get back to your day. Thank you for meeting with me.” Dasha smiled. 

“Thank you for meeting with us. It’s helped everyone.” Mark said. Dasha gave Fernando another longing look before turning back to Mark. 

“Sure.” She stated sarcastically, waving goodbye and leaving the little café. Mark watched her go; only when she had left the little café did he push his hand into his pocket and withdraw a five-euro note. He put it on the table in front of Fernando, downed the rest of his drink and kissed Fernando’s temple. Fernando turned to face him slightly.

“Get yourself some food, I’ll be back in a moment.” Mark said, kissing Fernando briefly again. Fernando reluctantly let Mark slip from his grasp and instantly felt cold. Mark rushed in Dasha’s wake and caught up to her just as she was climbing into her car. He grabbed her arm and she turned to face him, all friendliness vanished from her face. “What are you doing?” Mark asked in a stone tone. Dasha just blinked at him. 

“I’m getting in my car, Mark.” Dasha stated sarcastically. Mark pulled her out, slamming the door.

“With Fernando.” Mark pressed. Dasha pulled her arm from his grip and folded them across her chest. 

“I’m not doing anything.” Dasha said in an innocent tone that reminded Mark horribly of Sebastian. A tone he the German had applied too much last year. 

“Don’t shit with me, Dasha. What are you trying to do?” Mark snarled. Dasha went to get in her car again, ignoring Mark, but Mark placed his hand on the top of the door. She exhaled loudly through her nose. “You still love him, don’t you?” Mark asked, his voice going a little softer. Dasha fidgeted awkwardly in front of him, fruitlessly trying to open the door. “Dasha, you won’t change his mind-”

“-You did.” Dasha snapped at him. Mark felt the protective urge growl in him as he stood over Dasha. She held his glare, staring up at him. 

“Blame me if you want, Dasha. He kissed me first.” Mark stated. Dasha’s eyes widened in shock. 

“What?”

“He came to me. I didn’t do anything. I left it all to him. He came to my room. He told me not to interfere. He. Kissed. Me.” Mark said, watching Dasha’s posture deflate. She suddenly stood upright again, new determination in her eyes. 

“You must have said something. Must have made him think there was something more to his feelings of friendship for you. He was happy with me. We were fine together. And suddenly he’s no longer interested? I don’t believe it. Not one word. If you can say something to get him to change his mind then why can’t I?”

“Think what you want, Dasha. But I didn’t say or do anything.” Mark said, pushing away from the car and walking back towards the café. Dasha watched him with a preposterous expression.

“I know you did, Mark! Don’t think I’m just going to sit here if there is a chance he still loves me. And good luck trying to prevent me from finding out if I’m right!” She yelled before ripping the door open and falling into the car. Before she had the chance to close it, Mark was holding it open. He leaned close to her. 

“Do what you want, Dasha. Far be it from me to do anything about it. But if you fuck things up for Fernando I will kill you.”

“You mean Fernando and you.” Dasha seethed. Mark shook his head.

“I mean Fernando. I want him to be happy, Dasha. He is now. So leave him alone.”

“You’re the one who told him to help with the baby. You’re the one who pushed for that. It’s your fault that you know it’s not possible for me to leave him alone.”

“Don’t try and fuck with his head. You know that’s what I’m saying.” Mark said in an annoyed but calm tone as he leant out of the car. “And I didn’t push him to help you. It was his choice.” Mark aired, instantly regretting it. He knew he had given Dasha what she wanted to hear: that little shimmer of hope. But before Mark had a chance to say anything else Dasha closed the door and reversed out of the parking space. Mark sighed, watching her go. He was suddenly fearful of what Dasha could do. She wasn’t Sebastian, but she had been helping Sebastian. Even if she hadn’t known it at the time. But she had helped attempt to destroy Fernando and very nearly succeeded. Mark felt such a strong protection for Fernando he could feel himself baring his teeth after her car. This was stupid. He knew Fernando didn’t love Dasha anymore. He knew that. It was Fernando who had come to him in India. It was Fernando who had been waiting in his room after the party. And Fernando only wanted to help Dasha because he felt obliged to… Right? Mark shook his head, pushing those pointless fears out of his head. Fernando had agreed to marry him. That wasn’t something that could be done lightly. Turning on his heels, Mark headed back into the café. 

\- - -

Fernando finished off his lemonade as he watched Mark disappear after Dasha. He wasn’t coping with this well. The sudden abruptness of being face with the picture of Dasha’s ultrasound… Those feelings all puddled back inside him. The one thing Mark and he couldn’t have and there it was, being dangled so temptingly in front of him. And he hated Sebastian for having those two weeks of manipulating his feelings. He felt attached to the child that wasn’t his. He wanted to run from it, avoid it at all costs. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t just abandon Dasha or the child. He couldn’t bring himself to. He crumpled the five-euro note in his hand as anger disguised his crushing sadness. 

He pushed himself onto his feet and strode over to the counter with no real understanding as to why. Mark had told him to get some food, so he grabbed a pair of sandwiches in their little cardboard box, not bothering to look at the filling, and moved over to the woman behind the till. As he dropped the sandwiches on the surface in front of her, his eyes fell on the neat stack of little red cakes on the cake stand. His defiant anger dissolved, eyes saddened and his breath gasped out quietly. 

“Is that all for you, Sir?” The woman asked in a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. Fernando shook his head, still looking at the cakes. And without saying anything the cashier seemed to know what he wanted. She took two off the tray and put them into a bag. Fernando saw her face as she took the cakes off the stand. And he was more shocked to see her here than anything else. His eyes followed her as she cashed up his purchases. He found his voice.

“Alice?” Fernando said in a small voice. Alice blushed a little before smiling over at him. She put the stuff on the countertop and rested her arms in front of her, looking over at Fernando.

“Yeah. Fancy seeing you here.” She smiled. Fernando felt a pull of a smile on his own cheeks. He embraced it, happily. 

“Could say the same to you.” Fernando laughed. Alice blushed some more. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m working. Not much going on at Ferrari in terms of needing me at the moment. My boyfriend and I live out here.” Alice smiled, placing the bag of cakes on the counter with the sandwiches. She punched the new items into the till as she spoke. “I saw your announcement on Twitter.” She said in an odd tone. Fernando frowned at her. 

“But…?” Fernando pushed. Alice sighed, looking up at him.

“I know it’s none of my business… But I thought you had the baby with Dasha…”

“Was not mine.” Fernando said sharply. Alice blinked at him stupidly. 

“What?” Fernando looked around him to make sure no one else was listening before leaning closer to Alice.

“Is Sebastian’s.” Fernando muttered so quietly Alice was sure she had misheard him. 

“I don’t-”

“-Does not matter anymore.” Fernando smiled softly, leaning back away from Alice. “Mark and I are happy. This is what is important.”

“Yes… Of course, of course it is…” Alice said frantically, still in a state of shock. 

“Do not tell anyone about the child.” Fernando muttered, his face going hard. Alice nodded. 

“No. I wouldn’t-”

“-I know this. Just saying to ease my conscience.”

“Sure…” Alice agreed, seeming unaware of what to do with herself. She smiled back over to Fernando, taking a deep breath. “But I’m happy for Mark and you. It’s good. Really good.”

“Feels good… Feels right.” Fernando smiled, his face revealing just how much he was in love with Mark. Alice felt her heart melt. 

“I hope you don’t think I’m prying, but-”

“-Not at all.” Fernando smiled. Alice blushed a little again. 

“Are you… Are you engaged or married? It’s like the big debate on Twitter.” 

“Engaged. Are getting married in a couple of weeks.” Fernando smiled easily. 

“That so wonderful.” Alice smiled radiantly. Fernando nodded as he handed over the five-euro note and Alice handed him back his change. 

“I hope to see you later in the year.” Fernando smiled, picking up the food. Alice nodded. 

“Yeah, I’ve already been booked to be working through pre-season. Should be fun.”

“As long as the car is good.”

“Which I’m sure it will be.”

“Of course.” Fernando smiled. 

“Especially considering how much time you spent in Maranello working on it.” Alice smiled happily. Fernando fought to keep the smile on his face. Thinking back to those weeks in Maranello before the gala. Those weeks he had spent with Dasha, thinking she was pregnant with his child. He gripped the edge of the counter tightly, trying to keep his grip on the here and now. That was over. He was here with Mark now. They were happy. But that period of time… That period of time where he couldn’t understand his purpose anymore. That period of time with the gaping hole in his life he couldn’t fill. It was too much. 

“Yes…” Fernando said with a fake smile. Alice seemed to pick up on it, but before she had a chance to say anything her eyes slid to the door opening. Mark walked in, looking slightly stressed. 

“Well, I’ll see you in Jerez then.” Alice smiled and Fernando nodded, turning back towards the table. He had taken three steps before Mark’s hand wrapped around his wrist. He looked up into Mark’s eyes and without having to say anything Mark gave a nod, ushering him towards the door. Mark passed a wave at Alice before following Fernando out. 

“Are you al-?”

“-Can we just go please.” Fernando said, walking briskly towards the car. Mark gave a small jog to catch up to him. 

“Sure, mate.” Mark said softly, linking his hand with Fernando’s. Fernando abandoned the food in the back of the car and climbed into the passenger’s seat of his Fiat 500. Mark took the keys from him as he climbed into the driver’s seat and with that motion he knew Fernando wasn’t all right; Fernando never passed up the opportunity to drive. It was just confirmed when Mark started up the car and Fernando had hunched into himself, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Mark didn’t say anything though; he wasn’t sure what this was about. There was a whole run of reasons that Fernando could be within himself. He shot Fernando a worried glance as he drove onto the main road that would lead them back to the house. 

Fernando had fallen back to that place of sadness as he considered the situation he had landed himself in. He didn’t want to help with the baby. He wanted to pretend it didn’t exist and just curl into Mark’s arms. Mark would protect him from anything and everything. He knew he could rely on that. But that overwhelming disappointment he brought upon himself every time he considered just not helping Dasha anymore was too much. He was stuck with his decision because he knew it was the right thing to do. He felt he owed it to her for not telling her about Mark and him and getting her into this mess in the first place. He felt responsible for making her part of Sebastian’s game. 

But on the flip side of that he hated pulling Mark into all of this. This wasn’t fair to Mark: dragging him through this with Dasha. He didn’t want Mark to think he still wanted Dasha or wanted the child. Yes, he wanted a child but not with Dasha. He wanted it with Mark. And he was scared that Mark was going to get the wrong impression with him helping Dasha. He had almost lost Mark once; he wasn’t prepared to go through it again. Also, to the fact that every time they did baby stuff with Dasha the wretched memories of what brought them to the current situation would always flood into Fernando’s head: how Sebastian played him, the hurtful thing he did to Mark, Dasha’s deception. And he knew it would always take him to this place in his head, this dark, horrible place where all of those things were exaggerated. The place Fernando couldn’t hide from. The place no one else knew about. The place Mark always rescued him from. 

“I was thinking,” Mark said suddenly, the silence too much for him to bare. Fernando turned slightly to look at him. “We didn’t think about Alice for the Wedding, did we.” Mark didn’t take his eyes off the road but he tilted his head in Fernando’s direction. Fernando shrugged. 

“Did not think about this.” Fernando murmured. 

“Do you not want to invite her?” Mark asked in an even tone. 

“Had not thought about this… Do you?” 

“Well, she helped us out a lot at the beginning.”

“Helped you out.” Fernando corrected with a small smile. 

“She helped you out too, mate. Do you remember the picnic in Abu Dhabi?” Mark asked, flitting his eyes to Fernando for a spilt second. Fernando’s face glowed lovingly through a small smile. 

“Of course I remember this…” Fernando said nostalgically.

“I don’t know… Just thought it might be nice if she came. She doesn’t have to.” Fernando turned to face Mark who was looking away from him, down the road, trying to pull out of a junction. 

“I agree.”

“You don’t have to just because I said, Fernando.” Mark commented, as he pulled onto the bendy road that lead to Fernando’s house. 

“Am not. I agree. This is a good idea.” Fernando smiled and Mark looked over at him. 

“Alright then.” Mark echoed Fernando’s expression. 

“And you are still happy about the decision to not have any other drivers but Jenson at the wedding?” Fernando clarified. Mark nodded. 

“Too much fuss. We’re trying to keep this low key.”

“I know. We agree on this.” Fernando smiled, settling back into the chair and closing his eyes. The short remainder of the journey was silent. Only when Mark parked the car did Fernando open his eyes again. Without turning to his fiancée, Fernando went to get out of the car but Mark locked the doors. Fernando turned to him, frowning. “What-?”

“-What’s the matter?” Mark asked softly, placing a hand on Fernando’s thigh. Fernando visibly tensed. 

“Nothing.”

“Fernando, you have to talk to me….” Mark paused, staring intently at Fernando. Fernando folded his arms, looking out of the front window. “Is it something Dasha said?”

“Am not discussing anything because there is nothing to discuss.” Fernando spat. He glared at Mark for a split second before pressing the door lock button and climbing out of the car. Mark sighed, resting his forehead on the steering wheel as he watched Fernando waltz over to the house and walk inside. He hated it when Fernando shut him out. He could never work out why the Spaniard did it. The easiest way for him to feel better about whatever was upsetting him was to talk about it. So now Mark had to play the deduction game, trying to work out what the hell was wrong with him. Mark pushed himself from the car, locking it, and walked into the house behind Fernando. 

“Fernando, this is ridiculous!” Mark called through the house in a calm, sympathetic voice, traipsing into each room trying to locate where Fernando had gone. He started with the kitchen. Empty. “I know you think it makes you seem weak, mate, but it really doesn’t!” Front room. Empty. “I want to help you!” Lounge. Empty. Dining room. Empty. Spare room. Empty. Fernando wasn’t on the lower floor of the house. “Please, Fernando. Talk to me!” Mark called, feeling his plea escape into his voice as he climbed the stairs. “I’m not a mind reader…” Mark muttered more to himself as he crossed to Fernando’s study. Fernando poked his head out of the bedroom door as Mark turned away from him and moved into the study showing him his back. He took the chance and rushed down the stairs, dressed in running gear with his iPod held tightly in his hand. There was no time to collect his normal tracking stuff. He just wanted to get out of the house. Run. Just clear his mind. However, Mark didn’t miss the telltale sound of his footsteps as he rushed down the stairs. “Fernando!” Mark called, darting after him. At the bottom of the stairs, Mark caught his wrist. 

“Let me go.”

“What’s wrong? Please, just talk to me.”

“Mark, let me go for a run.”

“Just explain.” Mark pleaded, his grip on Fernando’s wrist tightening slightly. 

“Is nothing. Let me go.”

“It is, Fer. You don’t just run for the sake of it.”

“Am training.”

“Where’s your training stuff then?” Fernando looked up at Mark with desolate, pleading eyes. Mark cupped his face, releasing his wrist. “Fernando, I’m worried. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” Mark brushed some stray strands out of Fernando’s face and the Spaniard closed his eyes taking a deep breath. 

“You know I will always love you, yes? Nothing will change this…” Fernando said in a small voice. Mark ran a thumb across Fernando’s cheek. 

“Yes. I do know that. And you know it works both ways: you to me, me to you.” Mark willed Fernando to open his eyes but Fernando kept them tightly closed. 

“Even these things we cannot have will not change this…” Fernando practically whispered. Mark swallowed nervously, knowing instantaneously that Fernando was referencing children.

“It’s not impossible… We can look into it… If that’s what you want…” Fernando opened his eyes at took in Mark’s pained expression. He pushed Mark’s hand away, turning away from him and heading for the door. “Fernando.” Mark reached forwards for him, but Fernando was already pulling the door open. 

“Is not fair what am doing. Am aware of this…. But I cannot…. I just…. Do not know…” Fernando stared into Mark’s eyes, revealing his vulnerable state at the sight of the tears residing there. “I really do love you, Mark…. Just hope I show this enough…” Fernando sighed sadly and departed from the house. The soft click of the door pushed a tear out of Mark’s eye. He brushed it off his cheek with a new determination in his step and he started searching round the house, looking for a notepad and a pen. An idea had occurred in his head on the way home and now seemed like the perfect time to put it into action. 

It was a good thing Fernando had forgotten his key.

\- - - 

The run hadn’t helped that much. Fernando still couldn’t clear his head. He was seeing, for the first time, the exact colossal challenge he had enlisted on himself by agreeing to help Dasha. And he was also seeing what sort of a strain that could put on Mark and him. He knew he wasn’t being fair but he knew he couldn’t change his mind. He felt responsible, so this was how it had to be. At least this way he could hope for some kind of closure. He just wanted to know Mark would always be there to hold him together, not let a piece slip out of place. He needed to know that Mark wouldn’t leave him because it all got too much. 

He kind of hated himself for setting the ultimatum up in his head. He was forcing Mark’s hand; making him stay close or he would fall apart. And maybe that was too much to ask. Maybe, a little while down the line, that would be the thing that pushed Mark over the end. Had him throwing bags on the bed and shoving his things inside haphazardly. That thought had rendered Fernando motionless. He couldn’t run on if that was true. He had begun hyperventilating, sinking down the side of a tree in a sorry attempt to keep himself collected. But this was why he needed Mark. Not the only reason, for sure, but right now this was why he needed him. 

But he wasn’t here because Fernando had run away. 

That pained expression. How many more times would he be the reason for it residing on Mark’s face? How many more times would Fernando run from him when he saw it? How many more times would it tear at Fernando’s heart? He couldn’t breathe. He had wrapped his arms around his legs, trying to force normal, regulated breaths out of himself, but it was pointless. He didn’t know how to show Mark how much he meant to him. He couldn’t think of a fail-safe way of being able to reassure Mark when that expression came, or even just a way to get it off his face. He didn’t want to use recycled old words, and what was the point in trying to make them new by saying them in Spanish? They still meant the same cliché meanings. It didn’t make him more impressive because he said them in a different language. 

He could understand easily how Mark could fall out of love with him. What was impressive about him anyway? In his job, someone six years younger than him had beaten him constantly for the past four years. That same guy had manipulated him over the past year in his personal life, trying to forge a barrage, and sometimes succeeding, between him and anything good for an excessive attempt for power. Could he really be seen as someone admirable, talented or powerful with all of these things surrounding him? Could Mark really think he didn’t deserve more? Fernando couldn’t help himself. Yes, Mark had agreed to marry him, but what if in six months time he realised this confident, cocky act was simply that – an act. Fernando didn’t think he was acting, but maybe he was. Maybe it was a subconscious front that he had to put into play to protect him from people like Sebastian.

Fernando felt like he should have just stayed where he was: unhappy and trapped with Dasha. At least in that way he knew Mark wouldn’t be dragged through shit by the man who supposedly loved him. But Mark had opened his eyes and made him understand why their friendship hadn’t been tarnished over the past twelve years. Fernando did love Mark. No words could describe the extent and passion of Fernando’s love for Mark. But could Mark really believe that when Fernando was about to drag him through seven months of a pregnancy that neither of them were going to gain from. And not just any pregnancy, the pregnancy of his ex-girlfriend. It was too easy to find reasons for Mark being able to just leave him. What kind of a message was that sending the Australian? What kind of message was he giving out? But he couldn’t not because it was his fault. It was Fernando’s fault that Dasha got pregnant and he wanted to help her because of the responsibility he felt. 

Fernando approached the front door, feeling heavier and more weighted than he did when he left. His run had had the opposite effect to what he had desired. He wanted nothing more than to just curl up in Mark’s arms, but he felt that was too much to ask. How was that fair anymore? If Fernando couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror how could anyone love him? It felt like he was being deliberately cruel to Mark. He wasn’t. He just wanted to have Mark because he loved him. The thought of him not being there… Fernando shuddered. 

He placed his hand on the handle, pulling his headphones out of his ears and deciding that the best place for him to go was to shower and then hide from Mark for a while. He had thought out the path to the bathroom and completely missed the white envelope taped to the door with his name on it. Fernando tried the handle but it wouldn’t budge. He frowned, trying again and then again with a little more force and annoyance. It was locked. Fernando pushed his hand into his pocket for his key before remembering exactly where it was. On the key ring with his car keys. Last seen with Mark. 

“Fuck.” Fernando muttered, stepping back from the door to look up at the house. He would have to face Mark to get back inside, which didn’t help his hiding plan very much. He thought about knocking, being aggressive and shoving past Mark before he had a chance to say anything. But he knew he would want to melt into his arms if he saw the Australian. He wasn’t sure if he could allow himself to do that anymore. Not until he worked out what he was doing with himself. He couldn’t even call Mark to ask him to open the door; his phone was inside. He swore again, kicking some stones across the front garden and turned back to the door. He tried, once more, to force the door open but it wouldn’t budge. He shook the dark wood a little in its frame but it still didn’t give. He exasperated angrily. And that’s when he registered it. 

Fernando tore the envelope off the door and just looked down at his name. Oh no. Was this it? Was this Mark’s note telling him the house would be empty? Was this Mark telling him he just couldn’t deal with it anymore? Was this Mark calling everything off, letting him know that all-consuming love was unrequited? Was this the end? Fernando’s hands shook as he looked down at Mark’s handwriting in front of him. Unmistakably Mark’s. He caught his breath, forcing himself to hold back the body-ripping sobs that wanted to unleash themselves as he gently pulled the tab at the top of the envelope. Feeling a small weight in his hands, he tipped the envelope into his palm. This will be his ring. This is it. Has got rid of it now. He does not want me anymore.  The words flashed through Fernando’s head as he held the exhale from leaving his lungs, eyes waiting for the little weighted object to fall into his hand. He gave a shaky exhale. Not quite as bad as he thought.

A gold key fell into his hand.

So maybe Mark had left everything in the house when he had left. Maybe Fernando would walk into the kitchen and find in on the side like he had found Dasha’s pills and Sebastian’s note all that time ago. Fernando just held the key. At least, now Mark had left, he could still get inside. That was something he was grateful for. He sighed, brushing a tear from under his eye and he moved towards the house. A gentle breeze rippled past Fernando, catching the now open tab of the envelope in his hand and turning it up. Fernando stopped walking, frowning down at the new little message he hadn’t seen before. He held the envelope in two hands and flicked the tab up, reading the four words Mark had written there.

Don’t forget the note. 

Fernando’s fingers froze. He didn’t want to read how Mark had loved him and how things had changed and Mark couldn’t keep pretending to live a lie. But Mark’s little sentence capture everything Fernando loved about Mark and he found his fingers tearing the envelope in haste to find the note Mark was referencing. Fernando took a deep breath as he found the folded paper and without giving himself a chance to get worked up, he unfolded it and read it quickly. 

Fernando,

I will always love you. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you. We’re heading into a difficult stage of our lives at the moment, with Dasha and with us being separated for a while whilst we both chase down the dreams of racing. But it’s going to be Ok because we’re going to go through it together. All of it: the highs, the lows, the happy times, the sad times, the times where all you want to do is punch someone in the face, the times you can’t find a way of expressing all that ecstasy. Everything. 

Together. 

You have no idea just how much love you give me. Even if you don’t think you’re being very clear I can see it. I know it’s there. I can see it when you’re explaining one of your books to me or when we’re cooking dinner. I can see it when you’re asleep in my arms or protesting that you don’t want to get out of bed. I can see it in the way you walk, the words you speak to me (or to anyone else for that matter). Fernando, you love radiates off you and I will never be able to get enough of it. 

Mi todo, mi vida, mi amor. 

As for you right now, I can happily bet you’re beating yourself up about something. Probably making you think the worse things that make you want to crawl back into my arms. And for some reason (I don’t think I will ever understand) you’re always reserved about that. Maybe it’s because it’s something you’re assuming about me or it’s your pride that stops you from talking to me. You don’t think you’re being fair to me, so maybe you think if you hold yourself back you can make things right. That’s wrong. I want nothing more that to make you feel better, Fernando. If you can’t be vulnerable with me whom can you go to? 

No, don’t answer that. I don’t want you going anywhere else. 

Fernando, we all need moments to not be tough. We all need those moments where we just rely solely on someone else. We all need to be caught sometimes. Think about a few days ago when you held me and I sob in your arms. Remember how much better we both felt after that? How I curled around you and never wanted to let you go? It’s the same, Fernando. It’s human nature to need to know you’ve got your safety net. 

You are mine and I am yours. 

So I have done this for you because I need you to know exactly how much I can’t live without you. I’ve made you a list. It’s a list of the most important ten reasons why I love you and couldn’t live without you. There are obviously more that ten reasons for this, but these are my most important ten. They’re the first things I think of when I think of you. And I think it’s about time you know them. 

Dry your eyes, bub. It’s going to be Ok. Let yourself in the house and make your way to the kitchen. 

I’ll see you soon. 

All my love, always, 

Mark xxxxxx

Fernando brushed the tears from his cheeks. Mark knew him too well. He couldn’t help but smile. And his words… His perfectly chosen words. Fernando wanted to find him now, pull him close and never let go. This letter was enough. Fernando didn’t need anything else. He craved Mark’s hold, Mark’s warmth, Mark’s love. But this was now the most important thing Fernando ever had to do. He laughed to himself softly at how well Mark knew him as he dried his eyes and swallowed the large lump in his throat. Mark hadn’t left. Of course Mark hadn’t left. Fernando felt stupid for letting himself even think that was true. With a couple more shaky breaths, Fernando walked up to the door, Mark’s first letter securely in his hand, and pushed the gold key into the lock. 

\- - -

From his position, Mark heard the front door open and close. Fernando was back. It was make or break time. He knew Fernando had to have opened the envelope because that was the only way he was going to get inside. Mark released a deep breath as he crouched down again. 

Make or break time.

\- - -

Fernando was a little shocked, and a little disappointed, when he walked into the kitchen to find Mark wasn’t there. It was short lived. On the work surface, in the exact place Fernando had found Dasha’s pills and Sebastian’s note, was a plate with tea lights surrounding it. Mark had dimmed the light in the room so they stood out, surrounding the envelope that was lying on the plate. Fernando walked over to it, feeling more tears brimming in his eyes, and read the words on the envelope. 

Support for Friends

Fernando took the envelope carefully from its candle-lit cove and tore the tab up, pulling the note from within.

Here we are, Fernando. Our first envelope. 

This one take me back a few years to 2010 when all the shit about us came out in the press. It’s not only that that makes me love you for your support (you do so for other people like Dasha, Jenson, Felipe, etc.), but this is my association to it. You stood by me at a time that was bloody difficult. A time where your actions were only fuelling that horrific fire the press had lit. But you didn’t care. I was your friend and you knew I needed your support more than anything. And I can’t tell you how much that meant to me. I can; however, promise is that I will try to show you every single day without fail. Your support for your friends, and not just me, is astonishingly admirable. The way you would happily go out of your way for anyone of them is something so treasure. I’ll keep it locked in my heart along with you. 

Head over to the dinning room, mi amor. 

You’ll be in my arms shortly. 

All my love, always, 

Mark xxxxxx

Short but sweet. Fernando pushed the second letter carefully into it’s own envelope and held it tightly with the other. As he made to move away, he saw the post-it note stuck to the plate. Fernando was astonished and humbled by the effort Mark had gone to in the mere forty-five minutes he had been running. It just made him appreciate Mark more. Here Fernando was, feeling like the worst was going yo happen and Mark had collected him together, holding on tightly and promising to never let him go. Fernando lent forwards to read the post-it. 

Blow out the candles and make a wish. 

Fernando obliged, watching each tiny little tea light give off a tiny stream of smoke. He couldn’t think of anything to wish for. Only for Mark to be here, guiding him round the house. But it was too clear now that this was going to be a solo exhibition. Taking another deep breath, Fernando moved through to the dinning room. He was faced with the exact same display and wished he could find his phone to capture the moment, store it forever, brag to people about the beautiful thing his husband had done for him. 

Husband.

Fernando’s face spilt into a grin at the word. It fitted like the final piece of a jigsaw. Like the one thing Fernando hadn’t quite understood. The word ‘Fiancée’ had never suited Mark. It had always been so much more. He was a husband. He was Fernando’s husband. Fernando took the second envelope gently in his hand and pulled it from its tea light circle whilst reading the front. 

Spanish

Fernando frowned a little at this one, his thoughts trying to work out where Mark was going with this. It just seemed a little too obvious to Fernando. Of course you would think of Spain when you thought of Fernando. The two things sort of went hand in hand. He opened the envelope and threw his hand to his mouth. There was no way…. But here it was. Fernando didn’t even try to stop the tears trickling down his cheeks. He just read the words. Read the words Mark had written. The Spanish words.

Querido Fernando, 

Supongo que esto ha sido un rato largo que viene. Tal vez debería haber dicho antes, pero me alegro de que no lo hice. Se siente bien para usted para encontrar de esta manera. En los últimos seis o siete semanas he estado aprendiendo español. Cada vez que he estado escuchando algo en mi teléfono I han estado aprendiendo. Quería que lo haga por usted. Cuando me hablas en su idioma materno me hace la burbuja de felicidad y orgullo, y yo quería ser capaz de compartirlo con ustedes, para entender el significado de los rollos de la lengua. Espero que no estés enojado Guardé este secreto durante tanto tiempo. 

Te quiero, Fernando. Todo acerca de ti. Yo no cambiaría cualquier parte ti y espero que este demuestra que. Mi Todo, mi vida, mi amor. 

Usted debe comprobar estás bicicleta, ya sabes, asegúrese que haya suficiente aire en los neumáticos. 

Todo mi amor, siempre, 

Mark xxxxxx

Fernando didn’t want to keep going. He wanted to find Mark. This was too much. Too amazing. Mark had been dedicating his free time to learning Spanish. To be able to understand what Fernando said. Fernando couldn’t return that; he already knew English. It was the message that came with, the massive sign that showed Mark had given up his free time for him. Mark wanted to be able to understand everything about Fernando. Fernando could barely breath in amazement. He put the letter carefully back into its envelope and blew out the candles, just as Mark had requested, before walking back into the hall and heading towards the cupboard with his bike in it. 

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. He had a funny feeling he knew exactly where he would find Mark but he didn’t want to ruin the thing he had obviously gone to so much effort for. Fernando smiled up at the empty space at the top of the stairs; silently promising he would be as quick as he could. He finished his journey to the bike cupboard and opened it, finding a square tray resting on his bike seat with the same set up as he had already seen twice. Candles, plate, envelope. Fernando picked up the envelope and read the front (Self-Determination) before tearing open the tab and pulling out the letter. 

Mi Campeón, 

I’m going to go back to English now if you don’t mind. 

You will win at least one more World Championship. It’s not a question. It’s not a wish. It’s knowledge. It’s a fact. You’re pure determination and stubbornness will not let you leave with only two. You are an amazingly talented driver; there is no doubt. And someone I would trust with my life. You will get a third and hopefully a forth and a fifth. It’s little compared to what you deserve. You should have won in 2010, you should have won in 2012, you should have won in 2013. Because you are much better than him. It’s your self-determination, though, that makes my first statement a fact. You won’t let yourself come away from the sport with out at least one more under your belt. You have an idea and you don’t stop until you get it. That’s why you’re the double World Champion and I am not. So never change that. You deserve it all. 

Fancy a stroll? Try that tree…

All my love, always, 

Mark xxxxxx

Fernando blew out the candles and put the letter back in its envelope, closing the door and heading out to the garden. He knew exactly which tree Mark was leading him to. The tree they had sat under that first time Mark had come to his house. That time he had come to apologise for telling Sebastian about the lifts. They had just sat, had lunch out here the second day when they had got back from viewing the cars for his exhibition in Madrid. But as Fernando stepped out into the garden he couldn’t believe this had been done just in the time he was out of the house. The tree was full of little lights, making it glow romantically in the darkening sky. Fernando’s mouth dropped open as he looked up at the grand gesture. Getting closer, it was clear Mark had covered the tree in little Christmas tree light, but it was still breath taking. It could have easily been mistaken for being filled with the little tea lights Mark had set up around the other envelopes. Fernando moved forwards and read the envelope that was taped to the bark. 

Tifosi

Fernando assumed this one would be like the first as he pulled it off the tree and began to read the letter. 

Fernando, 

People have so much respect for you because you have so much respect for them. You’re so calm and down to earth and people can approach you. The way you are so grateful for the support you get is so precious, people would die to be able to appreciate it as much as you. You try your best to connect with them so much, which is why you wanted to tell them about us. Why you posted the gorgeous picture of us. And now I’m glad you did. Because not only now do I get to show your mine in private, but I can now actually show the world you’re mine. You real fans will stick by you. Your real fans care and are happy about us. No one else matters. 

I know you’ve been running, so you won’t need a workout, but maybe pop in to see me? 

All my love, always, 

Mark xxxxxx

It was Mark’s acceptance of what Fernando had done that was the resounding message in this note: his tweet their photo. Mark was now claiming he was grateful for it. Fernando smiled as he pushed the letter back inside the envelope. But it wouldn’t go in. Fernando tried again with a small frown on his face, but fear of damaging the letter made him stop. He put his hand in the envelope and pulled out the resistance. He gasped again, looking down at the photo of Mark and him. The photo Fernando had poster on Twitter. Mark had printed it out. Mark had given it to him. It was so perfect Fernando could barely stand. He turned it over to put it back in the envelope when he saw the little black handwriting again. 

1-1-14   
Fernando Alonso and Mark Webber most definitely in love. 

That was all it said. But that was all it needed to say. No other words were necessary. It was such a Mark phrase: short, simple, to the point. Fernando smiled radiantly as he put both the letter and the photo back in the envelope. He lent against the tree, collecting his thoughts and sorting his emotions. It was all so wonderful Fernando could barely comprehend it. And he still had six more envelopes to go and find. Fernando sighed happily, pushing off the tree and heading into the gym. 

The gym was in a disconnected building out the back of the house. Fernando didn’t think he was going to find Mark in there, even though his message had suggested he would be, so he wasn’t surprised to see it empty. He walked through the room of training equipment and down into the small poolroom. It’s the first place Mark always liked to take Fernando when they came in here for some training. Mark had done it again. He had left Fernando speechless, looking down from the doorway. More candles. So many more candles. Floating on the pool’s surface. Gently glistening and throwing a warm orange glow onto Fernando’s face. The pool lights had been dimmed so the candlelight was brightest. He moved into the room, toeing off his shoes and leaving the other letters he had with his trainers by the doorway. He sat on the edge of the pool, dipping his legs under the water surface up to his knees and just watched the candles for a moment. What he wouldn’t give to have Mark with him now, soaking up his love-filled feeling. Fernando lost track of time, just watching the candles float past him softly. It was perfect. Once he was silently content, Fernando lent forwards to take the fifth envelope off the tray that was being held in place by a weight on the pool floor. 

Dedication

Fernando read the word and it instantly fit his surroundings. This was dedication. Mark had gone to so much trouble just to make Fernando feel loved. It had worked. It had worked so well. He tore the back of the envelope carefully and pulled out the letter. 

Fernando, 

This word applies so much to your life; the mere mention of it brings your face to the front of my mind. Ferrari, your training, us. Ferrari hasn’t provided you with the best car for the last few years yet you are still dedicated to winning with them, for them. I wish I could feel the same belief in a team, but if I could have done then I probably wouldn’t have left the sport. You are always showing your dedication to your team and I just hope they realise how lucky they are to have you. 

You train so much. If you’re not training, you’re dieting. If you’re not dieting, you’re training. If you’re doing neither of those things, you’re planning how to do those things better. The dedication you show to keeping yourself at your best for the pinnacle of sports is amazing. 

And us. I don’t think either of us are in this relationship more than the other but you are so dedicated to us it corrupts everything else you do. That’s not a bad thing, of course. You’re just better at expressing yourself than me. I hope this little show can do me some justice and make you realise you are as special to me as I am to you. 

I’ll see you in the lounge. 

All my love, always, 

Mark xxxxxx

Yes. That was the word on Fernando’s tongue. Mark’s display of affection was so brutally clear it was too much to take. Fernando folded the letter up but stayed with the candle-filled pool for a few more minutes, letting Mark’s words sink in. All of them. Everything he had read so far. And he couldn’t believe another word would fit in him. It would rip him at the seams, sending him panic rushing to find Mark and throw himself into the Australian’s arms. Fernando sent one of the candles spinning across the pool and he watched it until it resumed it calm drifting. He got up, collecting his letters and trainers in one hand and left. 

He walked bare foot across the grass and back into the house. Placing his trainers by the back door he heard it. Their song. It was quiet, soft. Fernando initially thought it was in his head. But it wasn’t. As he moved through to the lounge, feet padding quietly across the floor, the volume grew. And Fernando noticed it was slightly different to the first time they had played it on Christmas Day, in the afternoon when they had been relaxing around the house. It had come on the television and Mark and he knew it meant the same thing to both of them. Staring into each other’s eyes. They had danced to it. Soft, slow sways in time to the beat. Their hands linked. Fernando had felt a little foolish at fist, but when Mark had started singing it quietly and gently in his ear he had melted. But it was different. Normally the velvety voice sang in English. But now it was Spanish. The intro followed Fernando into the lounge and he saw the new envelope in its frame of candles in a whole new way. 

Appearance

“Quiero ser tu héroe” Was sung down the stairs and sent a shiver down Fernando’s spine. It made him smile more to the fact he knew Mark could understand the words, as they were different from the English version. Much more passionate in Spanish. The music continued as Fernando read Mark’s next letter.

Sexy Fernando, 

Yes, You are sexy. And hot. And beautiful. And gorgeous. And handsome. And stunning. And attractive. And many more words. If anyone looks at you and doesn’t think at least three of those words they are lying to themselves. It makes me feel so smug to know of just how many people would want to be in my shoes. To be able to see the way you face changes when you’re panting for breath or screaming my name. Or even just to know that look in your eyes that means you want nothing more than to just stare at me, that loving glow rooting me to the spot. Of course this is one of the reasons I love you, but don’t get me wrong there are much more important things (as I’m hoping you have gathered by now). Having such an attractive fiancée is just an added bonus. And to know I don’t have to be the most attractive around here takes a lot of pressure off my shoulders. 

Sexy like a Ferrari, no? (I think you know where to go next) 

All my love, always, 

Mark xxxxxx

Each letter Fernando was reading gave away that little cheeky glint of Mark. He could tell Mark’s tone through his words, picture his facial expression, imagine where he would place those soft kisses as he told Fernando what he had composed. And as the music bubbled in Fernando, reaching the first chorus, he blew out the candles and put the letter in its envelope, holding it with the others. Sexy Fernando. The two words echoed round his head as he smirked and blushed on the way to the garage. As Fernando opened the door and walked down the steps he noticed these candles were not real. They flickered and pulsed like a real candle would, but they were in fact fake candles. Little bulbs that acted at if they were alight. Fernando didn’t mind. The effect was still the same. They were everywhere. On the shelves, on the roofs of the other cars, on the floor. But not on the Ferrari. They were surrounding the Ferrari, directing him to the seventh letter. On the bonnet of his silvery car was another tray with a plate, the letter addressed as Passion at two real candles. Fernando picked up the letter and tore Mark’s script from inside it. 

Fast Fernando, 

Your passion for the things you love. Your job, your team, your family, your friends. I don’t know if it’s because you’re Spanish but you are a very passionate person. It shows in everything you do and you give yourself all the motivation you need to do things at 120%. And you’re passionate with me. You echo this passion through you life. It gives you an edge to everyone else. It makes you one better. You think you don’t show you love for me enough but you’re so wrong. It’s everywhere. It the way you move, the way you hold yourself, your words, your voice, your expression. The way you are so passionate about these things, about me. It’s too clear to be missed, mate. I can’t get enough of it. 

So now to the place that could have possibly been the first. (Definitely the place I hid that night I thought you’d worked me out) 

All my love, always

Mark xxxxxx

With three left, Fernando’s skin tingled in anticipation. He was so close to seeing Mark. So close to drowning him in the feeling he had built up through his dispersed messages and displays of love. He pushed the letter into the envelope, blew out the candles and moved through to the spare bedroom. The place that could have possibly been the first.  Fernando knew how he himself had read the message. If he had have pushed that door open when he heard the noise that filled his dreams it could have been their first time. But Mark didn’t know Fernando had heard that. Mark didn’t know Fernando had been there, just outside the door. And that’s where he placed himself. The same place he had been on that day. Just outside the door with his hand securely on the handle. “Y qué más da Mira que al final.”  Though this time he understood his purpose. He understood why he was standing there. He let the Spanish lyrics invade his mind as he took a calming breath and stepped into the room. “Lo que importa es que te quiero.”. It was simple. Just in the middle of the bed a few candles surrounded the plate with the envelope on it. 

Smile 

Fernando left the door open so he could still hear the music clearly and placed the eight envelopes he already had on the bedside table. This envelope felt slightly different, the tab was taunt as he pulled it open. Fernando perched on the edge of the bed as he pulled the paper out, spilling the rest of the contents of the envelope on the floor. He didn’t look at the waterfall of stuff that was now on the floor yet. He kept his eyes on the page. 

Every Time xxxxxx

Fernando turned the paper over but that was it. No explanation, no elaborate. Just those two words. Fernando put the paper back in the envelope and looked down at his feet. Photos. Loads of them. His eyes widened pleasantly as he perched on the floor and scooped them together. 

It was Mark and him. Smiling. Happy. 

The words of the song sunk into his skin as he examined them. “Si pudiera ser tu héroe, Si pudiera ser tu Dios, Que salvarte a ti mil veces, Puede ser mi salvación.” 

Some from ages ago, some more recent. Pictures of the two of them in Minardi race suits, pictures of the two of them from the previous season. Candid shots. Some set up. Picture from their trip to London together. The picture from in front of the Tower of London. Pictures of them together. Pictures Fernando didn’t even know Mark had taken until now. He picked them all up, piling them together and pushing them back into the envelope whist trying to dry his eyes. He needed to see Mark now. It was too perfect. Too much. He wanted to kiss him, show him how grateful he was. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop now with only two envelopes left. Fernando stood up and blew out the candles as he read the post-it that was on the plate directing him to the study. He practically ran up the stairs, nine envelopes in hand and burst into his study. His desperation to see Mark overriding any kind of grace he could have possessed. He was stopped by the singular word on the envelope. It held so much promise.

Kiss 

Fernando moved towards it. It was surrounded closely by candles in a tight circle. It was being presented to him. He picked it up with delicate fingers; as if it were something so fragile it could smash with the lightest of touches. Placing the other envelopes on the desk beside the semi-circle of candles, Fernando ripped at the opening of the letter slowly, each crack of separation pulling at him as his apprehension grew. He checked the envelope but there was only the one piece of paper in there this time. He took a deep breath before unfolding the paper and reading Mark’s words.

Fernando, 

It’s always you: your kisses can’t be reciprocated by anyone else. The taste, the smoothness of you lips, the staggered motion of your breath. It can be gentle or hard, vulnerable or demanding, revealing or hesitant. They are always perfect, whether they be delivered in a chaste, flirtatious way or messily and desperate after we have been together. I remember the first time you kissed me. The way you came to my room and told me to just stand there. There was no way that was going to happen. I knew, and I'm sure you did to; as soon as your lips touched mine I would never be able to refuse them again. It was cute at first. You were nervous and trying to understand how you were feeling, how kissing me was making you feel. But you weren’t really kissing me. There was no way I could let you go without sharing that. And you felt the change. I felt it to. It was the beginning. 

I’ve never regretted a thing with you, Fernando. Not even when we were apart. We needed everything to happen to get us here, where we are, the amount of trust we have with each other. If I did it all again I wouldn’t change a thing. And I mean that. Maybe you would, and maybe there are some things I would change that didn’t happen between us. But everything we’ve shared, everything we’ve gone through. I wouldn’t change a thing. 

I think you know where this had to end. I bet you knew from the moment you read the first letter on the front door. I’m proud of you for seeing this through though; I needed you to see every one of these. 

Just one left now. Not long mi amor. 

All my love, always 

Mark xxxxxx

Fernando didn’t know what to do with himself. This whole thing had just been too perfect. The one thought that made him blow out the cluster of candles and turn from the room was the thought of Mark. He needed to see Mark now. He needed to relive each little note with the Australian and show him how much each word had meant to him. He walked slowly along the hallway, knowing that the last place was their bedroom. It was always going to be their bedroom. Nowhere else would have been right. He knew as soon as he saw Mark he would melt into his embrace. And his body craved it. His skin tingled for Mark’s soft touch. He stood, calming his breathing for a moment before opening the door cautiously and looking in to the room. 

It was the icing on the cake. The open curtains spread the dimmed light of the setting sun across the room but all over the floor were more tea lights glowing. It was in the middle of the bed: the last letter. Fernando couldn’t read it from this distance but he was still taking in the room. It was like a completely different room to what it had been that morning. And the speaker sitting on the bedside table had just restarted the Spanish version of their song. Fernando couldn’t take it all in. It swelled inside him and pushed the tears from his eyes. A niggle of disappointment and confusion entered his head as he made his way carefully over the tea lights towards the bed. Where was Mark? It was almost Fernando’s perfect picture. 

There were a couple of the false candles surrounding the two envelopes on the bed. Fernando settled himself, cross-legged, in front of the pile and turned them off. He liked the real glow from the candles, not the manufactured version. It had worked around the car, them all emitting the same glow, but it was different with the subtle perfection surrounding his feet. He left the brown, slightly bigger envelope on the bed and picked up the white one that matched the others in his hand. He put them all down as he read Mornings off the front of the last envelope. He continued to look around the room for Mark as he pulled at the thin tab preventing him from getting to the contents within it, music still pouring into his head, the first verse repeating itself. 

From Mark’s hidden spot, he let himself have a small smile. But he held himself in place. However much he wanted to cross over to Fernando he had to wait. He didn’t want to ruin the moment he had built up to. Fernando pulled the paper out of the envelope and relented his search, taking his eyes to the final message from Mark.

Fernando, 

The mornings are precious to me. Mainly because I get to wake up with you. I wake up most mornings before you and I just get to look at you. Sometimes I get a snippet of one of your dreams through the quiet Spanish you murmur for me. It’s when I’m most at peace, watching you sleep. But also when you first wake up and you’re in that half awake state. Sometimes your lips messily try to find mine but you miss. It’s adorable. You’re probably going to hate me using that word, but it’s true. 

Fernando, every day is like a dream with you and waking up with you in my arms just confirms it’s not a dream. It’s real and you really are with me. And I still can’t believe it. I keep thinking one of these days you won’t be here and I will have dreamt the whole thing. It doesn’t matter to me that you don’t get soppy and romantic and fill the house with candles (yes, I am aware that’s what I’ve just done). I need you to know it’s all the little things that make me know you love me and reinforce the fact I love you. The way you get so passionate trying to explain Lost to me or how sometimes you’ll get sad over the end of a film. They’re the important things, not material items you can give me to show me. 

Words. They’re the most precious gift mate. 

You are my everything, Fernando. I’m never going to leave you because I physically cannot. Until we’re old and grey. I want to help you around the house when you can’t walk (no, actually, you can help me; I’m older). I want to spend days sitting in a chair and just fantasising about our future together, then planning and actually making it happen. I want to lay in bed all morning and just play with your hair, then I want to spend all night with you, wrapped in your embrace and whispering to you softly. I want all of you Fernando. Every single imperfection as well as all the perfections that come with it. 

I love you so much, Fernando. Nothing you could ever do could hurt me. Not properly hurt me. Maybe for a little bit, but we’ll always fix it. I can promise you that, Fernando. I can promise I will never leave you. 

With all my heart. 

“All my love… Always…” Mark whispered as Fernando finished reading the last letter. Mark had made his way quietly over to where Fernando sat on the bed and wrapped himself around the Spaniard’s body. His hands brushed around Fernando’s sides and held him closely, burying his face in Fernando’s neck. 

“Mark…” Fernando murmured in a velvet tone. Mark pressed his lips into Fernando’s skin and listened to the mesmerising change of Fernando’s breathing. Fernando sat forwards, out of Mark’s hold. Mark frowned at him momentarily but there was no time for his muscles to set into place. Fernando cupped Mark’s face and brought their lips together. Mark’s arms wrapped around Fernando’s waist and pulled him on top of him, lying down. Mark’s words were on a constant stream in Fernando’s head as he pushed his tongue into Mark’s mouth. Fernando was trying his hardest to become fully connected with Mark, but the gaps were infuriating. Mark rolled them over so he was on top of Fernando and held the withering Spaniard in place. Mark rested down, straddling Fernando’s hips and lent forwards, brushing the hair from Fernando’s face. 

“You forgot one.” Mark smiled, sitting himself back up. Fernando followed him, wrapping his arms around Mark’s hips and resting his head on his navel. Mark turned back to him, holding the brown envelope in his hand. Fernando reluctantly let go of Mark to take it from his hands. “I knew you would want to have them so I did it for you. I hope I got it right.” Mark smiled, moving round to mould his body to Fernando’s back, wrapping his arms and legs around him. Fernando opened the envelope and tipped his phone out into his hand. He turned his head to frown round at Mark but Mark just nodded and Fernando unlocked it. Each one was there. A still representation of what Mark had left him. A picture of every single one of the envelopes. A couple of videos captured Mark turning the tree lights on and twenty seconds of the tranquil state of the candles floating in the pool. Fernando dropped his phone in his haste to catch Mark’s lips again. Mark laughed into their kiss, wrapping his arms around Fernando’s neck and bringing them back down onto the bed. Fernando’s hands were everywhere, trying to pull at Mark’s shirt at the same time as melt into his hold. Mark rolled so he was back on top in fear of being accidently punched in the face. Fernando frowned up at him but when the Australian started to laugh Fernando blushed, easing into a smile. 

“Mark…” Fernando smiled, pulling Mark’s collar so the Australian lent down over him. He pressed their lips together briefly before sighing and running his fingers along Mark’s jawline. 

“I can guess you liked it then.” Mark smiled and Fernando gave a gentle nod. 

“You…. I cannot explain…” Fernando buried himself into Mark and clung onto the back of his shirt tightly. Mark hugged him back, pulling him round, with Fernando’s help, so they were lying at the head of the bed. Fernando curled himself around Mark and Mark slowly began to play with his hair. “Do not get rid of the letters…” Fernando muttered, pulling closer to Mark. Mark nodded as he continued with the gentle rhythm in Fernando’s hair. 

“Alright.” Mark pushed a gentle kiss on the top of Fernando’s head. Fernando snuggled closer to him. “Did you blow them all out?” Mark asked softly. 

“Hmm?” 

“The candles. Did you blow them all out?”

“Yes. Apart from in the pool. They are still floating around.” Fernando sighed. Mark was satisfied with the information. They laid like that for a little while, the bed surrounded by soft glowing lights as Fernando fought to keep his heavy eyelids open and Mark played with the waves of his hair. This was all Mark had wanted. He just wanted Fernando to be open with him. To talk to him when he was worried about something. He had to let Fernando know that nothing he ever said could send Mark away from him. Mark never wanted to leave. And Fernando was floating on that feeling of being totally cared for. A feeling a few months ago he would have resented. But he knew he needed it now. He craved Mark’s protection. 

Mark felt Fernando fall heavily in his arms and knew he was asleep. The perfect vision of Fernando. He had no fear or worry or stress or determination on his face. He was relaxed, soft, calm. Mark loved it. He could never get enough of the way Fernando looked asleep on his chest. He lent away from Fernando slightly and pulled out his Canon camera. He tried his best to capture what he could see from this position, but it took him a few tries until he felt he had got it right. He flicked through the photos he had taken today of him setting up the house for when Fernando came home. The ones he had taken of Fernando when he entered the room had to be taken on his phone but they were all still perfect. Still prefect for exactly what he needed them for. Mark smiled as he put the camera away, but as he snuggled into Fernando his phone vibrated in his pocket, signalling a text. Fernando stirred a little at the vibration on his leg but Mark just pulled him closer as he withdrew the slender device and read the message that was presented to him. It was from Jenson.

What are you doing Jan 8th? 

Mark blinked slightly in confusion before leaning closer to Fernando so he could use both hands to send a reply. 

Just me or Fernando and me? 

Mark pattered little chaste kisses all over Fernando’s face as he waited for a reply. Fernando hummed contently and then sighed a little when Mark stopped to read Jenson’s new text. Mark smiled down at him, knowing now he was feigning sleep. 

I thought you were attached at the hip now anyway ;)    
But both of you :) 

“Fernando, I know you’re awake.” Mark purred in his ear feeling the younger man in his arms shiver pleasantly. Mark smiled. 

“Am not.”

“You know talking gives you away, right?” Mark laughed as Fernando turned his head so he was looking up at him. 

“But if I pretend I am asleep you stop talking.” Fernando smiled before stealing Mark’s lips briefly. Mark opened his eyes slowly, momentarily forgetting what he was supposed to ask Fernando. 

“Are we doing anything 8th of January?” Mark asked, rubbing across Fernando’s back softly. Fernando pondered it for a moment. 

“Erm… Do not think so, why?”

“Jenson wants to know.” Mark said, focusing on fashioning a reply. 

“Why?” Fernando asked curiously. Mark just shrugged.

Nothing. All yours :) 

Mark dropped his phone on the bed and caught Fernando in his arms again, pulling him close to his body. He hummed along with the music softly in Fernando’s ear until the Spaniard caught his lips again. Mark sighed happily as he slowly released Fernando’s bottom lip from between his two. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Mark muttered, nuzzling into Fernando’s hair. Fernando tried to sigh but Mark was fracturing his breathing pattern.

“You say this before.” Fernando smiled. Mark pressed his lips into Fernando’s neck and sucked gently, loving the way the man below him tightened his grip on him, lips parting and breath coming out ragged. 

“I love you so much, Fernando… I can’t get enough of you…” Mark pressed his words into Fernando’s skin leaving chaste kisses in their wake. Fernando gripped the back of Mark’s shirt even tighter and pressed his hips upwards into Mark’s leg slowly. Everything. Everything was bubbling together in his mind. 

“In Spanish…” Fernando requested. Mark released Fernando’s neck and looked down into his eyes. Fernando blushed a little under Mark’s intense stare and Mark took the dull red streak on his cheeks as a guide. 

“Te quiero tanto, Fernando.” Mark started softy, brushing his lips across Fernando’s cheek. He placed a kiss on the Spaniard’s nose. “No puedo tener suficiente de ti...” Fernando caught Mark’s lips slightly unaware and threw himself onto him. Hands weaved together and through hair, trying to pull the other as close as possible. The only reason they stopped was because Fernando was gasping for air. Mark couldn’t help but laugh at the state he had left Fernando’s hair in and that gain him a playful slap on the arm. “Ow! What?” Mark laughed as Fernando’s face cracked into a smile. “It’s not my fault you need a hair cut.” Mark grinned. 

“Well maybe I will shave it all off and then you will have nothing to laugh at.” Fernando joked back. Mark playfully shook his head. 

“No. No you can’t do that.” Mark said, weaving his fingers through the long strands. Fernando sighed into his touch, feeling relaxed and loved. 

“And why not?”

“I wouldn’t be able to do this.” Mark buried his nose in Fernando’s hair before dragging his lips from the bottom of his ear and down to his mouth, knotting the strands of curly auburn hair round his fingers. 

“This is true.” Fernando gasped as Mark climbed off him. Fernando lent up on his elbows to watch what he was doing. Mark returned holding up series three box set of Lost. 

“Do you think we can get through this tonight?” Mark teased watching the smile grow on Fernando’s lips. 

“Of course. As long as you do not ask stupid questions.” Fernando said, taking the DVD from Mark and moving towards the window, getting off the bed. Mark watched him as he closed the curtains and then headed towards the television. Only the light of the candles to show Fernando the way and Mark loved the way the light glistened over Fernando’s body. 

“What about dinner?” Mark sighed happily, tucking his hand behind his head and watching Fernando as he turned the television on. Fernando turned back to Mark. 

“Will order takeaway. Cannot be bothered to cook. Will go for a run and a bike ride tomorrow to compensate.” Fernando smiled.

“Ok. But you need a shower because you stink.” Mark teased, crawling to the front of the bed and reaching for Fernando. With the first DVD still in his hands Fernando moved over to him so Mark could take hold of his hips. 

“Yes?” Fernando smiled as Mark ran his hands up Fernando’s sides. 

“Mmm… Definitely need a shower…” Mark mused, pushing Fernando’s shirt up above his navel. 

“Need help.” Fernando smiled. Mark shot him a knowing look. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Muscles are sore from run. Cannot stretch enough to reach my back.” Fernando lied, playing with Mark’s hair. 

“Not had that problem before.” Mark teased. 

“Not come home to a house full of candles before.” Fernando grinned, leaning down and briefly connection Mark and his lips. Fernando put the DVD box beside Mark before walking over to the bathroom and pulling his clothes off and throwing them over a chair in the corner of the room. Mark watched as the naked form of his fiancée sauntered into the bathroom. Just as he went to push off the bed his phone buzzed and he silently cursed Jenson. 

Perfect ;) 

“Indeed.” Mark muttered to himself before leaving his phone on the bed and following Fernando into the bathroom, removing his clothes and throwing them to join Fernando’s in the corner of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you picked up that Mark and Fernando's song is "Hero" by Enrique Iglesias, though in this part the song playing is "Heroe". It's to the same tune but the lyrics are slightly different in translation. (I much prefer it in Spanish).
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own the song or any of it's rights. 
> 
> If you would like, you can re-read the last section and play the song whilst reading. I haven't tried it myself but if you want to then go for it and let me know if it works well or not ; )   
> If you do do it though only let the song play through twice. Start the first run when Fernando comes back into the house from the gym, heading for the lounge, and the second when Fernando enters Mark and his bedroom. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this part. I've got the next one all planned out so hopefully it won't be too long for an update : )


	36. Invite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I invite everyone to chose forgiveness rather than division, teamwork over personal ambition”  
> ~Jean-Francois Cope~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've played with some ages and names in this part but that is because I couldn't find the information out : ) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy : )

The sun beat down on the man’s back as he pushed his bike up the road. Perk of the job, his friends had told him. He just saw it as a bloody long hill. Not thinking about much but the burn in his legs, he climbed closer and closer to the elusive house. His first job here was exciting. How many people would have given to be doing what he was doing he had thought to himself. How honoured he had felt to be given such a privilege. After doing it so many times, though, the novelty had worn off. His friends and family still got excited, even if they were more interested in the contents of the parcels he was delivering. In some respects, those around him made him more excited about his job, or the special occasions he delivered to this particular house. Today there was just one parcel. A box about two inches high and about a foot wide. It was a light box. He couldn’t work out what could be in it. Curiosity crawled down his back as the crest of the hill came into sight and he pulled off the road to the left. 

Resting his bike against the wall as he always did, he unclipped the almost flat parcel off the back, got his clipboard from his satchel and moved towards the front door. Subconsciously, his smoothened down his uniform and ran a hand through his hair. Yes, he had done this many times before, but he still wanted to look smart. He gave three sharp knocks on the door and waited. The clipboard rested happily on top of the box as he pushed his hand into his pocket and looked round. How many people would give to be standing on Fernando Alonso’s driveway? Especially here in Spain. He felt a buzz of happiness flow through him before hearing the lock slide on the door. He turned around and had to force his mouth to not hit the floor. 

Because Mark Webber had answered the door, wearing nothing but long pyjama trousers. 

Mark smiled over at the postman, who swallowed to try and make sure his voice didn’t crack when he spoke. He had heard the rumours, yes, and read the news stories. But to be confronted with the undeniable truth was something he hadn’t been ready for. Mark reached forwards to take the parcel from his arms and the postman gave a smile as he handed it over, taking his clipboard from the top. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at Mark in shock as the Australian put the box on the floor just inside the doorway. It was just so bizarre how at ease Mark was, in Fernando’s house, wearing very little, with his hair sticking up in peculiar angles. Mark turned back to him and waited for him to leave or say something. The postman did neither. 

“Erm ... ¿Necesitabas que te firme algo?” Mark asked softly and the postman blushed. He handed Mark the clipboard and he signed quickly along the dotted line. He handed the clipboard back with a smile and the postman grinned. 

“Gracias, Senõr,” he said as he began to head back to his bike. Mark held the edge of the door. 

“Gracias. Buenos Dias.” Mark smiled. 

“Buenos Dias!’ The postman called back, swinging his leg over his bike. Mark shut the door as he pedalled off, eager to get home to his family and tell then what had happened. 

“Fernando! They’re here!” Mark called as he passed the bottom of the stairs. He took the box through to the kitchen and placed it on the side. Fernando dashed down the stairs and into the kitchen, hovering in the doorway. His eyes fell on the box before they fell on Mark, smiling softly. Mark shook his head a little seeing Fernando buried in a jacket. Mark’s jacket. “I went for mere moments, mate, you can’t have missed me that much.” Mark said, moving over to Fernando and pulling him closer. The jacket drowned his small torso slightly and Fernando had the collar turned up around his face. Mark pushed their lips together briefly and linked their fingers. A hum escaped Fernando’s throat as Mark lent back and he fell to his normal height. “You drive me crazy when you do that.” Mark sighed into his forehead. Fernando pushed himself closer to Mark, combining both the scent generated by the material pushed close around his face and the pure, real one generating from the man himself and sinking deeper into the embrace. Mark let go of one of Fernando’s hands and towed him towards the box sitting on the countertop. 

“Ok…” Fernando breathed, looking down on the sealed box, clutching Mark’s hand tighter. He was filled with uncontrollably joy and a pleasant tingle of nerves. Mark pressed his lips to Fernando’s temple.

“Together?” Mark asked, handing Fernando a pair of scissors. Fernando nodded as Mark collected a knife. He let go of Mark’s hand and moved to the right hand side of the box whilst Mark moved to the left. Opening the scissors up, he dragged the blade along the tapeline, meeting Mark in the middle. They put the cutting utensils in their hands down and pulled the tabs of the box open. Mark watched as Fernando picked up one of the white boxes. There were two of them: one for the outside and one for the inside of their wedding invitations. He wrapped his arms around Fernando’s waist, standing behind him, as Fernando opened the box and pulled out one of the soft pieces of parchment.

Fernando Alonso   
and  
Mark Webber  
Request the honour of your presence to celebrate the anointment of their marriage. 

There it was. In black and white. This was really happening. Mark clung to Fernando tighter. His fingers delicately brushed the indentation of the letters as tears bloomed in his eyes. It was so real now. Here they were, thirteen days before their wedding and it had finally began to feel real with the delivery of their invitations. Ten crisply cut filler papers filled one box whilst the other held the foldable card. They had to make them, put them together. Mark took the second box and opened it, taking one of the pieces of card out and putting it in Fernando’s hand, surrounding the paper he had already been holding. The creamy whiteness of the colour brought the innocents of the texts to life. 

They had a few spares just in case they made a mistake. Fernando carefully put both sections of the invitation back on the table and turned in Mark’s hold, wrapping his arms around his neck. Mark smiled at him before resting their foreheads together. 

“Is really real now.” Fernando beamed. Mark slid his hands around Fernando’s waist, rubbing his side soothingly. Fernando rose onto his toes slightly and pressed their lips together, trapping Mark’s bottom lip between his own. A deep, satisfied sigh emitted from the Australian as they fell apart and he looked down at Fernando. Looked down at his future. He kissed Fernando briefly before collecting the two boxes under his arm and taking Fernando’s hand. Fernando followed him through the house, heading back up their bedroom. 

“It’s going to get even more real when we send them.” Mark commented as Fernando and he sat on the bed and made a start on putting the invitations together. 

\- - - - -

“Jenson!” Jessica yelled happily, rushing through the house. Jenson had barely left the house over the past few days. Everything seemed to have stopped. Jessica had been nothing but a rock for him, something he could cling to when he thought he was slipping away. He looked down at his phone, the surreal feeling that his Dad was going to call at any moment. But of course he wasn’t. He was never going to call again. Jenson shook his head, sinking lower into the chair he was sitting in and looking back out the window. Why was it sunny? It shouldn’t ever be sunny again. It should be raining. He felt like the weather was mocking him. Who knew the one time he would need the horrific British weather it would let him down?

Jessica knocked softly on the door and poked her head around the frame. He had been having good days and bad days. Sometimes he was like himself and everything would feel almost normal. But it was like she could feel him slip away from her and disappear into a state of stillness. A state she couldn’t join him in. And unfortunately today was one of those days. She walked into the room and cross to him slowly, falling into the seat beside him. He didn’t turn to her. He barely acknowledged she was there. 

“Jenson, we got something in the post today.” Jessica said gently, stroking her fingers through his hair. Her thumb brushed across the stubble that hadn’t been shaved in weeks. 

“Generally what happens everyday, Jess.” Jenson sighed in an exhausted tone. 

“I think you’ll like this.” She said, placing the cream envelope on his lap. Jenson looked down at it, a deep frown setting on his face, which he sent to Jessica. She gestured for him to open the envelope with a small smile. Jenson dropped his feet onto the floor and took the envelope from his lap. Sitting forwards, he turned the little thing open and untucked the flap of the envelope to reveal the small folded card inside. Jessica watched his face brighten as he read the invite to Fernando and Mark’s wedding, but she wasn’t ready for Jenson to capture her lips with his own. She smiled radiantly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“Thank you.” He said, kissing her nose. She giggled slightly as Jenson got to his feet and moved across the room. Jessica’s smile widened as she watched him retrieve the notepad he hadn’t looked at in weeks. Jenson scratched his cheeks as Jessica wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder from behind him. 

“What’s up?” She asked. He pointed at the date on the page. 

“We’ve got four days.” He commented, turning to look at Jessica over his shoulder. “Better get started.”

\- - - - -

Andrea sat in his office in Maranello looking at his name written elegantly on the cream envelope. Mr and Mrs Stella. He couldn’t find the motion to open it because he was speechless. To think Fernando valued him that highly. It was too much. Andrea knew Fernando respected him in their workplace but this was something else. He could only imagine a select few had been chosen to go and to be in that handful was truly honouring. 

He flicked the envelope open and pulled the card out, reading the graceful writing just to confirm he was right. With a smile etched on his face, Andrea completely forgot what he had been doing. He pushed the data in front of him to the side and found his phone, swiftly moving his fingers across the screen and connecting the call to his wife.

\- - - - -

“Annie?” Ben called, walking into the front room. Ann looked up from the game she was playing with Sarah and smiled up at Ben. He walked into the room and sat in the armchair next to them on the floor, pile of post in his hand. He slid the cream envelope from the front and passed it to her. 

“I thought these things were supposed to be addressed to you.” Ann commented, reading her own name first, followed by a reference to the rest of her family. Ben sat back in the chair, flicking through the other envelopes. 

“Yeah, well, I doubt they would address it to me.” Ben said lightly, ripping open his bank statement. Ann looked up at him confused before returning her attention to the cream envelope. Sarah reached over for it and Ann pulled her into her lap. 

“Do you want to help Mummy open the invite?” Ann asked as Sarah clapped her hands together, nodding eagerly. Tearing carefully at the flap, Ann pulled the invite out of the envelope and gasped. Ben looked over at her, slightly worried, but seeing the happy tears springing in her eyes he relaxed. 

“Who’s getting hitched now?” Ben asked casually, returning to studying the letter in his hand. 

“Mark and Fernando…” Ann breathed. Sarah pushed her hand onto Ann’s cheek to catch the tear running a path down her skin. Ben nearly dropped his tea. 

“Mark and Fernando?” He stated, shocked. Ann looked over at him. 

“You read me the article about the twitter thing.” Ann said, slightly confused about Ben’s shock. Ben just shrugged, returning his eyes to the document he was reading. 

“Yeah, I just… I just thought they would keep it quiet.” Ben sighed, not being able to focus on the text in front of him. Ann placed Sarah back on the floor. 

“This is them keeping it quiet. We’re being included in that.” Ann explained. Ben didn’t react. “We don’t have to go…” Ann said weakly, looking back at the beautiful invite in her hand. Ben got up and crossed to her, catching her cheek in his hand. 

“We will do whatever you want to do. It’s your choice, Annie. Whatever you want.” He said, brushing his lips gently on her forehead. She smiled up at him, squeezing his wrist in thanks. 

“So we’re going.” She beamed. Ben nodded as he took his seat in the armchair again. “Does it make you uncomfortable?” Ann asked curiously as Sarah made the best effort to crawl back onto her lap. Ben, again, shrugged. 

“Never really thought about it.” He looked back over at Ann. “But I suppose it lead me to you so I’ve only got them to thank.” He smiled and Ann nodded, bringing her attention back to Sarah. She lifted her onto her feet. 

“We get to buy you a nice new dress so you will look adorable.” Ann smiled as Sarah giggled and clapped her hands again. Ben looked down at his perfect family image and felt empathy for what Fernando and Mark were trying to confirm to the world they had together. 

\- - - - -

Dasha shook her head, the invite falling slightly slack in her hand. No. No. No. This wasn’t right. It should be Fernando and her sending the invites, not Fernando and Mark. Dasha’s free hand crumpled into a tight fist as she dropped the invite back on the side. Pacing. This wasn’t good. How was she supposed to convince Fernando Mark was wrong for him if they were actually going to get married? And she knew she had come out to Spain for the wedding but after their coffee she had convinced herself it wasn’t going to happen. The invite had confirmed she was wrong. 

Falling back on the bed, her hand rubbed soothingly over her stomach and her eyes swam with tears. She blinked them away. This wasn’t over. She still had time. 

\- - - - -

Diane walked passed the fridge, smiling again as she took in the invite they had stuck there earlier. Their flights were already booked to Spain and they had called Mark to confirm it was Ok for them to stay with them. They had been staying at Mark’s house in England whilst he was in Spain with Fernando, looking after the dogs. 

“What do you think, will he ever come back here?” Alan asked as Diane came back in the room, watching the rain trickle down the window. Diane took her seat in between the two dogs and absent-mindedly began scratching between Simba’s ears. 

“He won’t come back for the weather; he said they were heading down to the beach today.” Diane mused. Alan nodded, looking back over at the MotoGP race rerun he was watching. “I reckon they will stay out in Spain. It’s easier for Fernando and Mark will need to be here less.” Diane continued. 

“I’m so proud of him.” Alan smiled softly. Diane nodded, emulating his expression. “Do you think he knows that?”

“I’m sure he does.” Diane glowed, abandoning the dogs and taking a seat next to Alan. The dogs hopped off the chair and padded after her, curling around their feet. 

“Maybe I haven’t made it clear enough… Maybe he thinks I think he failed. I don’t…” Alan sighed, lifting his glass to his lips. Diane rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Where has all of this come from?” She asked, a small frown on her face. Alan shrugged as he looked down at the glass in his hands. 

“I just… I think about John and I wonder if Jenson really knows how proud he was.” Alan muttered. 

“They all do. You both gave your boys nothing but support as they were growing up and racing and training. You’ve seen how hard it hit Jenson when we went round a couple of days ago. He knows. They all do. Especially our Mark.” Diane cooed, brushing the white wisps of Alan’s hair. He nodded, taking another sip from his glass. “We support him through everything. Just like we’re going to support him through this wedding. That’s how he knows we’re proud. We’ve never turned our backs on him.” Diane finished and pressed a soft kiss into Alan’s cheek. She rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm round her shoulder. 

“Thank you, darling.” He smiled, kissing the top of her head. Because really she was right. They had never turned their backs to Mark. Even after he had come out to them. Maybe that had taken a bit longer but they had still supported him through that. Alan relaxed back into the bike race, trying to think of the best way to embarrass Mark at his wedding.

\- - - - -

José flicked the top of the newspaper down when it got to too much. Ana was sitting in the kitchen, on the phone to someone and all he could hear was silly giggling. It was infuriating. With her speaking too quietly for him to hear it was all out of context and made it worse. After Ana make a sound that could only be described as ‘teenage’ José sighed deeply and threw the newspaper down on the desk in front of him. He collected his mug and crossed through the house to the kitchen. Ana abruptly stopped talking when José came into the room. She pressed her hand over the bottom of the device and watched him cross the room to the kettle. 

“Who is on the phone?” José asked in Spanish as he put his mug down. Ana’s eyes flicked to the phone and then back to José before she answered. 

“Lorena.” She said softly. José frowned over at her. 

“Why is Lorena calling?”

“Just wanted to catch up.” Ana, sort of, lied; they had been talking about Fernando’s wedding as they had both got an invite through earlier that day. José moved over to her, holding out his hand. 

“Let me talk to her.” He requested politely. Ana grasped the phone tighter. 

“Why?”

“She’s my daughter. I want to find out how she is.” There was a small pause where Ana still did not relinquish her hold on the phone. 

“She is fine.” Ana said hopping off the chair she was sitting on to move out of the room. José took the phone from her hand as she passed and pressed it to his ear. 

“Lorena?” José asked. There was a moment of quiet where Ana bit her lip. 

“Papa?” Lorena asked, slightly confused. 

“Yes, how are you, Lorena?” José asked, genuinely interested; he hadn’t properly spoken to her since the fiasco with Mark and Fernando. 

“Can you put Mama back on for a moment? I just need to ask her something. Then we can talk.” Lorena said, her voice cheerful and stressed at the same time. José frowned at his worried looking wife. 

“Your Mother is right here. Ask me and I will ask her.” José said softly. 

“No… No, can you just give the phone back to Mama for a moment.” Lorena requested. 

“What is going on?” José asked both Lorena and Ana. Neither of them answered. “Is something not being told to me?”

“Please… Just let me finish talking to Mama.” Lorena said softly. José moved the phone from his ear as a cream envelope hidden behind a bowl of fruit caught his eye. He had followed Ana’s gaze to find it and he looked back at her, a deeper frown on his face. Without saying another word, José passed the phone back to Ana and took the envelope from behind the bowl, flicking it open and pulling the card from inside it.

“No!” Ana said, reaching to try and stop him but it was too late. His jaw had already locked. His fist had already clenched. He had already read the invitation to his son’s wedding. Without another word, José stormed out of the house.

\- - - - -

“Ryan? Can you pass Mummy the clean nappy please, sweetheart.” Leanne said softly as she tried to prevent the squirming child from sitting in its own faeces. Ryan waddled up to her with six of the damn things looking up hopefully. She took one and gave him a thanking smile. “Thank you, darling.” She cooed and he giggled, running round in a circle on the spot. Leanne smiled as she returned to changing her second. 

“He’s going to be such a charmer.” Liam smiled from the doorway. Leanne turned over her shoulder to see her husband observing the scene in front of him. Ryan rushed over to him and gave him a nappy, looking hopeful for another comment of appreciation. Liam crouched to his height. “Thanks little man. You know who these are for?” He asked as his son literally exploded with happiness. 

“Joanie!” He laughed, jumping up and down. “Joanie! Joanie! Joanie! Joanie!” 

“That’s right.” Liam beamed. 

“Yes, Joanie who decides it’s fun to poo every twenty minutes.” Leanne sighed, securing the fresh nappy in place. Liam smirked, standing back up as Ryan lapped the small room. 

“I did it this morning. Now I get to laugh and watch you do it.” 

“I feed her!” Leanne jokingly protested. 

“Exactly. You make that mess you clean it up.” Liam smiled as Leanne lifted Joanie off the changing mat and cradled her close to her body. Liam couldn’t help but let his heart sing seeing them together. He grabbed Ryan under his arms as he sped passed, lifting him off the floor. “I think that’s a new personal best, buddy.” Liam laughed as Ryan began to cheer. 

“Dear God, don’t tell Mark.” Leanne joked, bouncing Joanie slightly. Liam put Ryan down in the hall and watched him sped up it before flying back past him, cheering that he was faster than his Uncle Mark. “Did you want something, babe?” Leanne asked, pulling Liam’s attention back to her as she put Joanie in her bouncy chair. The chair they had to keep reminding Ryan he was too big for now. 

“We’ve been invited to a wedding.” Liam said, producing the cream envelope from his back pocket. Leanne took a baby wipe out and cleaned her hands, moving over to him. 

“Oh yeah?” She said, swapping the wipe for the envelope. Liam dropped the fabric in the bin. “Whose?” Leanne asked as she pulled the card out. 

“You’re brother’s.” Liam smiled as Leanne’s face glowed happily, taking in the written words in front of her. 

\- - - - -

“Mama?” Lorena asked frantically down the phone. The phone had obviously been left on the side because she could hear voices but not make anything out. She pressed the phone closer to her ear, closing her eyes and straining to try and hear something. 

“What’s wrong?” Tajo asked, moving from the kitchen and sitting in front of her at the change of her tone. Lorena just shook her head, pressing her free hand against her other ear. She heard a definitive slam and her eyes shot open. She got to her feet. “Woah, woah, woah. Slow down, Lorena. What’s happening? What’s going on?” he asked, holding her shoulders. 

“Papa found out.” Lorena breathed. 

“About Fernando’s wedding?” Tajo asked. He had know Fernando since Fernando was sixteen and even if the gay marriage thing wasn’t right in his mind he would never express that opinion to anyone else. Especially not his wife. He had got the back end of José doing that and it was clear of how strong Lorena’s protection instinct was for her brother. And besides, what Fernando did in his own life didn’t affect him. 

“Lorena?” Ana asked down the phone again. 

“Mama? What’s happening?”

“He stormed out. He didn’t say anything. I’ve got no idea where he’s gone.” Ana panicked. Lorena gritted her teeth and Tajo slid the phone from her grasp. 

“Is Ok Ana. Just stay calm. I think Lorena knows where he is heading.” Tajo said calmly and Lorena stormed around the room looking for her keys. 

“Do I fuck!” She screamed, angrily slamming a cupboard door. Tajo moved the phone from his ear a moment.

“Calm down, Lorena!” He called before returning to the phone. “Ana? We will call you back in a moment when Lorena has calmed down.” He explained and as soon as he had her understanding he hung up the phone just in time to grab his wife before she rushed out of the door. 

“Let go, Tajo.” Lorena spat. Tajo lead her back to her seat in front of the white invite standing on the table and sat her down. 

“Where are you going?”

“He’s gone to Fernando’s! That’s where he’ll go! I need to go to! I need to go and-”

“-Lo… Fernando has Mark now.” He said softly. Lorena made to speak again but Tajo spoke over her. “They will take care of each other. If you go you could just make it worse for everyone.”

“You don’t know Papa!” Lorena protested. Tajo just shook his head slightly. 

“I’m not letting you go anywhere in this mood. You’ll do something stupid.” He said, sitting next to her, wrapping his arms around her tightly. 

“This isn’t going to help. I need to go. I need to try and stop him.”

“Just calm down, Lo. Give it ten minutes and then see how you feel, OK?” Tajo asked and with a reluctant sigh, Lorena nodded. He pressed his hand softly on her stomach and rubbed small circles with his fingers. “But you need to calm down, Ok, cariño? I don’t want to see either of you hurt.” Lorena looked down at his hand on her stomach before feeling the small pull of a smile in her cheeks. 

“Is barely big enough to do anything yet.” Lorena smiled. Tajo just shook his head. 

“It’s the most crucial part. You have to be careful.” Lorena giggled at him and he smiled up at her. “What?”

“And I thought I was going to be the paranoid parent.” Lorena grinned.

\- - - - -

“Stefano?” Andrea asked, knocking slightly on the door that was open a jar. Stefano waved him in. Andrea closed the door as he walked over to the desk. “You wanted to see me?”

“Take a seat.” Stefano smiled softly. Andrea sunk into the chair set up in front of the desk with a confused expression. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Andrea asked, his brain steaming through everything he had done in his history of the team. Stefano gave him a small laugh which relaxed him a little. 

“No. No, not at all. Is nothing bad.” Stefano confirmed and Andrea relaxed. “Just wondered if you had one of these.” Stefano said as he pulled a white envelope from the middle of a data packet. Andrea nodded. 

“What would you have done if I had said no?” Andrea pondered out loud. 

“Would have thought it was a different Fernando and Mark. You were always going to be invited.” Stefano smiled, pushing his glasses up his nose. Andrea smiled at his comment. 

“This will be kept between us two, yes?” Andrea confirmed. 

“Yes. Is Fernando’s business. Is his choice who he tells, not ours.” 

“Of course.” Stefano observed Andrea for a moment before asking the question he really wanted to know the answer to.

“Who else do you think they have invited?” He asked, resting his chin on his palm. Andrea smiled a little. 

“You can guarantee both of their families. Us. Ann will definitely be invited. Maybe some of the drivers?”

“I do not reckon drivers are coming.” Stefano said, sliding the invite in its envelope into his bag. 

“Not even Jenson?”

“What makes you think Jenson?” Stefano asked curiously. Andrea shrugged. 

“Kimi mentioned that he was trying to get as many drivers as he could to Spain on January eighth for a drink. Something tells me it’s a little bit more.”

“Maybe.” Stefano smiled. 

\- - - - -

Christian didn’t know what to do with it. He had it now, so technically he had been invited. But why? He fiddled with the small cut of white card as he pondered that thought. Mark had seemed so happy to get out of the team. And he knew Sebastian was here. Why had Mark invited him to his wedding? It filled him with a warm buzz though; maybe Mark appreciated him more than he let on. He had nearly won a World Championship in a Red Bull. Maybe it was more about appropriate timing and not all about the unfairness of the team that had fuelled his retirement. Before he had any longer to ponder it there was a knock on his door. He threw open the drawer to his right and dropped the invite inside as Sebastian walked through the door. He gave a nervous smile. 

“Seb. You here to get your schedule?” He asked, riffling through the paper on his desk. Sebastian nodded, looking bored. 

“Yeah… Why isn’t Heikki giving it to me? I’ve got a session with him in ten minutes?” Sebastian asked, slightly confused. Christian sighed. 

“I think you should go find Heikki in his office. He’s… He’s been waiting for you.” Christian said sadly as he handed Sebastian his schedule. Sebastian took it, frowning deeply at his team principle. 

“Ok…” He said slowly and turned and headed out of the room. He walked the usual route to Heikki’s office and walked in without knocking. Completely oblivious to the boxes surrounding him, he focused on the fact Heikki didn’t look ready to train. “Did you forget about this morning?” Sebastian queried, frowning at Heikki’s jeans. Heikki turned to him and folded his arms. He was annoyed. Sebastian had annoyed him. “What’s wrong with you?” Sebastian shot.

“What’s wrong with me?” Heikki spat back.

“Yeah. You’re in a shitty mood this morning. I don’t like it.” Sebastian breathed, sitting on one of the boxes behind him. Heikki moved over to him and ushered him up. 

“Get used to it.” Heikki spat. Sebastian frowned at him more confused than ever. 

“Are we going for a run or what?” Sebastian asked, eyeing his trainer suspiciously. Heikki spun on his heels to glare at him. 

“No, Seb. We’re not running. You’ve not noticed the boxes?” Heikki made a grand gesture to the room around him and Sebastian looked around, seeing that there was nothing but empty shelves and a desk. He turned his frown back to Heikki.

“What’s with the boxes?” He asked and Heikki sighed angrily. 

“I’m leaving, Seb.” Heikki shot. Sebastian’s jaw dropped to the floor. 

“What!” He bellowed, anger flashing in his eyes as he threw his arms down. Heikki remained unfazed. 

“I’m going back to my gym. It’s your fault; you went one too far.” Heikki seethed. 

“My fault? What the fuck did I do?”

“Your latest plan, Seb! I’m sorry I ever fucking helped you.” Heikki spat, swinging his rucksack onto his back. 

“You’re fine to help me plan to get someone pregnant but this is too far?” Sebastian scoffed, mocking Heikki. “Great morals you’ve got there.”

“Fuck off, Seb! You think you’re precious? You’re not. You wait. This will bite you in the arse.”

“So that’s it? You’re leaving because you think I’m a twat?”

“I’m leaving because I can’t help you anymore! I can’t do that to them! I feel fucking shit I helped you as far as I did!”

“You pretty much finished it to be honest.” Sebastian said casually, watching the fear trickle into Heikki’s eyes. “If you hadn’t have done your bit then it wouldn’t have happened.”

“Stay the fuck away from me, Seb.” Heikki said as he slammed a bag into Sebastian’s chest. He darted for the door and Sebastian followed him. 

“Are you going to tell anyone what I did? Because you know you helped. Rat me out and you’ve got to rat out yourself.”

“No. Unfortunately, Seb, I’m not going to rat you out. There is nothing I can do about what’s already been done. But I will find a way to stop you from doing this.” Heikki said as he stormed down the hallway, leaving Sebastian alone.

“Good luck!” Sebastian called viciously. He opened the bag and pulled out the brunette wig and green contacts he had given Heikki to get to Spain. Shaking his head he dropped the useless disguise on the floor of the boxed up office and headed down to the simulator. He needed to get a back up plan. Just in case.

\- - - - -

“Am just saying is nicer here. Prettier.” Fernando smiled as he followed Mark back into the house after their run. Mark smirked as he led him to the kitchen. 

“And that’s the reason for me to move in here rather than you move to England.” Mark grinned, handing him a bottle of water. Fernando shrugged. 

“Big garden for the dogs.” Fernando said, fiddling with the lid of his water. Mark smiled at him. 

“You don’t have to persuade me, Fer, I decided ages ago it would be better and easier if I moved here.” Fernando watched Mark crossed passed him and up the stairs to the bathroom before following him. 

“Wait… What?” Fernando called. Mark stood in the doorway. 

“It’s easier for you and I don’t have to be in England as much anymore. And you’re right; the weather is much better here.” Mark winked. 

“So you’ll stay? Will move in here?”

“Fernando, I’ve been here since Christmas, I pretty much already live here.” Mark laughed, moving into the bathroom. Fernando followed him. 

“Will not be a problem with the dogs?” He asked as Mark pulled his shirt over his head. 

“They’ll adapt.” He smiled, crossing back to Fernando to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Now go away so I can shower.” 

“Cannot shower together?” Fernando asked, fluttering his eyelashes. Mark shook his head.

“No because I actually want to become cleaner.” Mark said with a wave of his hand. He deliberately turned his back so he couldn’t see Fernando’s delicious pout. 

“Mark…” Fernando whined as Mark climbed into the shower, throwing the rest of his clothes over the top. 

“Go pick out a room for the dogs. I won’t be long.” Mark smiled, sticking his head out of the cubicle until he saw Fernando walk out of the room, not missing the trick to take the opportunity to admire his fiancée from behind. 

\- -

Mark loved cooking with Fernando. It was always perfect. He seemed to move around the kitchen with a graceful flow and Mark found himself just stopping to watch him sometimes in awe. Mark was manning the pasta, the one thing he couldn’t get wrong, whilst Fernando threw this and that into a pot to make up the sauce, emitting an enchanting smell. The sun was low in the sky when they finally settled down to eat. 

“When you retire you should be a chef.” Mark commented as he ate. Fernando smiled over at him. 

“Too much waiting. Will have to find another kind of racing that will take me.”

“That won’t be hard.” Mark said, spearing more pasta. Fernando shrugged. “Not when you’re a five-time World Champion.”

“Five?”

“As a minimum.” Mark continued. “Obviously you’ve got the next three years down.”

“You do not know this. Have not seen the car.” Fernando smiled bashfully. 

“Yeah but it’s you so you’ll fight even if they give you a brick.” Mark said. “Not that they will.”

“Do you not miss it?” Fernando asked. Mark sent him a small frown.

“Miss what?”

“The build up. Anticipation.”

“It was just a bundle of stress to me. Besides, I’ve got my own build up.”

“Not until March.” Fernando stated, holding his fork in both of his hands and twirling it slightly. Mark shrugged. 

“Well then we get to focus on you for a few months.” Mark grinned. Fernando then took the conversation back to Mark moving in and before they knew it they had cleaned away the plates and were curled into each other with a film neither of them were watching playing quietly. Mark pulled Fernando back closer to him and the Spaniard rolled over so they were facing each other. They didn’t need to say anything, just to be there together was enough. Fernando reached up to Mark’s face, tracing his cheekbones with his finger. Mark let his eyes close, succumbing to the delicate softness of Fernando’s movements. The moment Fernando pressed their lips together, Mark linked their hands together and the same pressure Fernando had mapped onto his face appeared as he circled the ring on Mark’s finger. The connection, in such away, made Mark’s head spin lightly and the Australian moved his second hand to wrap it around Fernando. 

Fernando pulled away from Mark’s lips and brushed his nose lightly. He then crawled off the chair, onto the floor, bringing Mark with him until there was nothing but the two of them surrounding each other, Fernando pressing his body on top of Mark’s. Fernando grabbed the hem of Mark’s shirt and pulled it up until it passed over his head and was thrown to an unknown part of the room. He held Mark’s arms above his head, keeping one hand on his wrists to hold them together, before he kissed him again. Never quite enough. Just hanging a little too far away for Mark to try and demand more. Fernando pulled back and smiled at Mark. 

“Tease.” Mark breathed as Fernando let his wrists go with a wink. His attention was drawn to the protruding bone at the base of Mark’s neck where he began to suck softly. Mark’s arms gripped into the back of his shirt, trying to pull him closer, as his head rolled back onto the floor. His mouth opened in a silent moan as his hands darted from Fernando’s back to his hair before they began frantically pulling at the hem of his shirt. Fernando didn’t stop his relentless sucking. He just combined it with the gentle stroking of Mark’s side to unravel the usually composed man below him. The combination of harsh sucking and gentle lingering touches was too much. Fernando had created a burning itch on his skin that he didn’t want to scratch. “Fuck, Fer…” Mark breathed, one hand bunching the hem of Fernando’s shirt up to the middle of his back as the other was tangled into his hair. 

THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD.

Mark gave an annoyed and impatient moan as Fernando stopped his attack on his body to look towards the front door. He shot a frown down to Mark before returning his gaze up as the knocking recommenced. Mark tried to turn his head in the direction of the door, but he strained his neck at this angle. Moving Fernando from on top of him, Mark sat up and turned to the door. 

“Who is that?” Fernando asked taking a look at the time. It wasn’t stupidly late but not a time to expect company. And they weren’t expecting company. Mark pushed himself to his feet. 

“I’ll go.” He smiled, crouching to press a kiss to Fernando’s lips before ruffling his hair and leaving the room. Fernando followed him. 

“Why do you keep doing this?” Fernando asked lightly as Mark headed down the hall. Mark stopped and turned back to him. 

“Doing what, bub?” 

“Answering the door with no shirt. Do not like to share this with the world.” Fernando sighed playfully, wrapping his arms around Mark. 

“If you hadn’t have taken my shirt off…” Mark smirked. Fernando kissed him before letting him go. Mark grabbed a coat off the hook next to the door, causing Fernando to laugh as the thick material seemed to engulf him. The Spaniard crossed through to the kitchen and retrieved Mark’s hoodie from the side. When he returned to his fiancée, Mark had pulled a beanie on and looked like he was wrapping up for winter. Fernando laughed at him before throwing him the hoodie and moving back into the lounge. 

“Get rid of whomever it is; want to carry on.” Fernando requested as he shut off the film and exchanged his shirt for Mark’s that was discarded on the floor. Mark smirked at the door he knew Fernando had passed through as he took of the coat and hat and pulled on the hoodie. His thoughts were anywhere but the door as he opened it and he found the smile and happiness in his being evaporate as he took in the man he was faced with. José looked furious, more so that Mark had opened the door. It was abundantly clear to Mark what had happened because of just how angry José was and how he was staring at Mark’s left hand that was holding the side of the door, ring twinkling in the darkening sky. 

“José, let me just-” But José gave Mark no chance to do anything. The next thing Mark knew he was staggering backwards with a throbbing pain running from his left eye and across his cheek. José shook his fist out as he glared down at Mark and crossed into the house. He reared up to hit Mark again and the Australian took a step backwards, falling into the table by the front door and making a rumpus of noise. 

“Mark?” Fernando asked worried as he came back through to the hallway. He had pulled Mark’s shirt on backwards and at the sight of the label fluttering against his son’s neck José reared up to swing his fist at Mark again. Fernando’s eyes flashed panic as he rushed forwards and grabbed his father’s shoulders. “Papa, please!” 

“You think this is clever? You think am going to let you do this to him? You think I will stand by and watch you ruin my son’s life?” José spat down at Mark trying to throw Fernando off him. Mark swallowed harshly, trying to work out if he should get up or stay on the floor. José motive suddenly changed and he grabbed Fernando’s wrists before dragging him towards the door. Mark sprung to his feet. “Will not have this. Should have done this ages ago.”

“Papa, let go of me!” Fernando pleaded, trying to wriggle from his father’s grip.

“No, Fernando. You are not to see him again. Done. This game is over now.” Fernando felt cold as he tried, even more desperately to pull from his father. 

“Is not a game!” Fernando got a grip on the door and swung it shut before his father could drag him out into the night. José turned to him, glaring painfully, as Fernando shook himself from his slack grip, rubbing his wrists. “I love him, Papa. This will not change.”

“This is wrong! You are wrong! Do not love him. Are being stupid, Fernando. Go and get in the car.” José spat, pushing past Fernando to Mark. “Want you to leave now. Go back to wherever you go and stay the fuck away from my son. Want you out of here in three days.” José demanded. Fernando pushed himself into Mark’s hold but when Mark didn’t cooperate Fernando grabbed his arms and wrapped them round his waist. Defiance. José glared at him. “I told you to do something, Fernando.”

“Am an adult. Make my own decisions.” Fernando shot back, gripping to Mark tighter. José sent Mark a look before glaring back at Fernando. 

“He has corrupted you. I don’t even recognise you anymore.” José snarled in Spanish. Mark, now, understood every word. 

“Don’t tell him.” Mark muttered softly in Fernando’s ear. 

“I haven’t been corrupted. This is my decision. This is what I’m doing. I don’t care if you want it or not.” Fernando shot back in Spanish at his father. 

“He is despicable!” José yelled, throwing his arms out. “It’s not natural. Not right!”

“If you think this about him then you think this about me.” Fernando clarified. Something in José snapped. 

“You’ve disgraced the family, Fernando. This…. This public façade… I was furious. You’re mother can’t even mutter your name.”

“That’s bollocks.” Mark suddenly scoffed in English. José’s glare changed from angry to confused. Knowing now that the cat was out of the bag, Mark changed to Spanish too. “Ana has nothing but support for us.” Mark finished, watching as the confusion and realisation and anger merged over José’s face. “That’s why you’re here on your own, José; you’re the only one with the problem.”

“He speaks Spanish now?” José sneered at Fernando. Fernando just felt proud of Mark. 

“Yes, I do.” Mark said. José wouldn’t look at him, let alone address him. 

“And you were just planning on not telling me this?” José seethed, still glaring at Fernando. 

“Didn’t think it would interest you. Nothing else we do does.” Fernando stated calmly. José brushed past it. 

“This is not happening. You are not marrying him.” José glowered. 

“You can’t stop us. Don’t come if you don’t want to. We just need two signed witnesses and we have them.” 

“Well now you don’t. You’re not marrying him, Fernando. I forbid it.”

“I don’t have to listen to you!” Fernando hollered. “This is my house! You’ve come in uninvited and punched my fiancée in the face!”

“Don’t call him that.” José winced. 

“I’ll call him want I want! Fiancée! Lover! Soul-mate!”

“José we want you to be Ok with this but if you’re not then it won’t stop us. It will be sad but it won’t change anything.” Mark said in a calm, soft state. 

“Fernando, you are coming with me.” José snapped, ignoring the fact Mark had even spoken. “Now.”

“I’m staying here with Mark.” Fernando sent back, gripping to Mark more. 

“I’ll leave you here with your faggot friend for no longer. Get. In. The. Car!” José roared. But Fernando lurched at him instead. Mark had to react quickly to pull him back and forced Fernando behind him. Fernando tried as hard as he could to get past Mark but Mark restrained him. 

“How dare you! How FUCKING dare you! What gives you the right! How dare you call him that!” Fernando thundered still trying restlessly to get past Mark to his father. 

“Fernando, calm down.” Mark tried. 

“I will not calm down, Mark!” Fernando bit back. He turned to his father. “Get out.”

“Fernando, you are being ridiculous. I will not stand for this.”

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Fernando screeched. Mark still held him back. 

“José, I think it’s best you leave now. Someone is going to get hurt.” Mark said through gritted teeth in the force of restraining Fernando from his father. 

“You see what you’ve done to my son! You’ve made him aggressive and uncontrollable! You’ve turned him against me!” José bellowed, moving closer to them.

“You’ve turned him against you.” Mark growled, turning to face José. José shook his head rapidly. 

“No. No this is your doing. You’ve broken up a family through this. I hope you’re proud of yourself.” José glared darkly at Mark. 

“Mark didn’t do anything! You’re the fucking monster!” Fernando spat, trying to take opportunity in Mark’s lapse in attention to get past the Australian. Mark held onto his shoulders tightly. 

“Fernando, stop this now. Go and get in the car.” José demanded with a point. Mark scoffed at him. 

“How can you not see he’s going no where? Especially not with you!” Mark sneered. José moved towards him but Mark had had enough. Releasing Fernando he grabbed José’s collar and dragged him out of the house. There was a lot of yelling and insults and accusations flying from everyone’s mouths, but with a definitive slam of the door José was left standing out on his own. Mark turned back to Fernando and scooped him into his arms. “It’s alright, Fer… It’s OK… Shh…” Mark cooed, changing back to English and rubbing his back soothingly. Fernando buried himself into Mark letting the tears trickle down his face. 

“Why…?” Fernando moaned. Mark pulled him closer. “Why can’t he just be happy?”

“Because he’s a homophobic prick, Fernando.” Mark said darkly before remembering it was Fernando Dad and his future father-in-law he was talking about. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“-No. Are right.” Fernando breathed. “He is these things… How dare he call you a f-”

“-It’s alright. He’s gone now. Just us.” Mark muttered and Fernando nodded. 

It was many hours later with Fernando asleep in his arms that Mark heard the car pulling off the drive. Sitting up slightly from their position in the seat in the windowsill, he saw José’s car was no longer there. It really was just them now. 

\- - -

Why it hadn’t been left in his office, Sebastian didn’t know. Heikki would have left it in his office. Instead when he had asked his new trainer, Antti Kontsas, where his fitness report was he had been told it was with Christian. In a foul mood already, Sebastian stormed from the gym up to Christian’s office. He missed Heikki. Missed the way Heikki knew how he worked. This new kid sucked. Sebastian shook his head in frustration as he knocked three times on the office door. Resting on the wall outside, Sebastian wondered if Heikki would try and ruin his latest plan. It would be difficult for him because it would mean admitting what he did first. Sebastian smirked to himself. He felt that his plan was safe. Heikki couldn’t touch it. When no one came to the door, Sebastian let himself in to find Christian wasn’t there. 

He looked over his team principle’s desk and the paper that was strewn across it. He began to flick through them all, believing his report would be buried in it somewhere. The more he searched the more frustrated he got. And the more he hated his new trainer. Even if he was Finnish. This was stupid and cutting into training time. Sebastian huffed, falling into the chair behind the desk and decided he would wait for Christian. 

After a few minutes, calling Christian’s press officer just to find out where the fuck he was seemed extremely enticing. What the hell could he be doing that meant he wasn’t in his office? Sebastian drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk and sunk his cheek into his other hand. He started to flick his eyes around the office in a poor attempt to discover where his fitness report was. Why did Christian need it anyway? Sebastian turned his head to the right to look out the window when something caught his eye. 

The drawer was slightly open. 

More out of curiosity that the possibility of finding his report did he slide the drawer open. The contents were more organised that the desk, everything fitted into its particular place. But something looked odd. Looked like it had been dropped into the neatness for no real purpose. Sebastian frowned as he pulled the cream envelope out of the drawer and flipped it open, sliding out the card within. He felt light-headed as he took in the words… Mark and Fernando… Mark and Fernando had invited Christian to their wedding. Sebastian felt sick at the same time as elated. The ball was back on his side of the fence. His head rushed with ideas but before he could get too carried away he grabbed a pen and jotted down the address on the palm of his hand to be converted to something else as soon as possible. Even if Heikki found a way to upend his plan there was a back up. Possibly two. Sebastian smiled joyously as he returned the invite to the envelope, the envelope to the drawer and pushed the drawer until it was only slightly open again. Completely forgetting about his report, he got up and left the room, grinning from ear to ear. 

\- - - - -

Fernando stood in the hotel room and watched Jenson let himself in. He was grinning widely as he brought a box into the room. Mark was in the bathroom and didn’t notice the Brit place the box on the bed, looking too happy in Fernando’s opinion. 

“So he did get my text.” Jenson smiled - focus still on the box. Fernando wasn’t sure if he was talking to him or not but answered anyway. 

“We did not forget. Knew you wanted us on the eighth. Still do not know why but we are here in your room.” Fernando said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching Jenson fuss with the box. He lent across to the box and pulled at a red piece of material he could see whilst frowning. Jenson battered his hand away. 

“Hey, Fernando, did you remember to pack-?” Mark asked as he walked out of the bathroom. His voice stopped abruptly at the sight of Jenson who was smirking at him with his arms folded. Fernando grinned up at his fiancée. 

“Remember what?” Fernando pushed innocently. Mark glared down at him, cheeks tinting red. 

“Don’t worry… I think I did.” Mark muttered. 

“Remember to lock your door tonight, yeah, Fernando?” Jenson teased and Mark’s cheeks turned a darker shade. 

“Thanks guys.” Mark sighed, falling back on the bed next to Fernando. Fernando’s fingers automatically fell to his hair, pulling the soft strands through his fingers. 

“Is why you love us.” Fernando smiled. 

“Definitely why he loves me.” Jenson amended. “I think they’re may be a few more reasons for you.” He moved back to the box and Fernando lent close to Mark’s ear, muttering: “I did remember.” Before sitting back up. Mark looked at Jenson upside down and watched him pull two suit bags out of the box and dust them down as he hung them on the outside of the wardrobe. Mark sat himself up a little, placing a hand on Fernando’s thigh as the Spaniard’s hand fell from his hair, and frowned at the Brit. Fernando’s eyes narrowed slightly as he read Mark and his names on the bags. 

“What are you doing?” Mark asked as Jenson returned to the box. Jenson followed Mark’s gaze to the suit bags before returning his attention to the box. 

“That’s Jessie’s input.” Jenson explained. Mark shot Fernando a look but Fernando shook his head signalling Mark was going to have to ask for an explanation. The Australian sighed before turning back to Jenson.

“Input to what?” Mark pressed as Jenson started pulling other things out of the box. Mark’s eyes widened slightly as he saw the red blindfold. “Jenson, what the fuck is going on?”

“Calm down, Marcus. Everything is absolutely fine.” Jenson grinned. 

“Don’t call me Marcus.” Mark said, sitting up properly. “What are you up to?”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you would hate the idea and not let me do it.” Jenson sighed, pulling a banner out of the box. Fernando’s eyes widened fearfully. 

“Are you going to tell us now or will we never know?” Mark asked. Jenson just shook out the banner in his hands and Mark read the words: “2014 Driver’s Bachelor Drinks”. Fernando blinked, a little confused. 

“It’s you bachelor party, but your secret bachelor party.” Jenson explained. Neither man on the bed said anything so Jenson continued to explain. “You have to have one so I thought we could do it under a small pretence so we could do it properly. Considering the wedding is being hushed about I thought this was the best option.” Jenson shrugged. Mark crossed round the bed to him before his face split into a wide smile and he pulled Jenson into a tight hug. Jenson’s shoulders relaxed as he gripped to the back of Mark’s shirt. 

“You’re a fucking genius.” Mark grinned; pulling back from the Brit. Fernando moved over the bed and rubbed between Mark’s shoulders, also grinning. Jenson shrugged, a little smug, and he moved away from the two of them with the banner. 

“I try.” Jenson smiled. 

“Do you need help?” Fernando asked as Jenson tried to hang the banner alone. Without saying another word Mark and Fernando helped Jenson take the things out of the box and set up the room. Mark loved it. Fernando felt indifferent about the concept but loved Mark’s reaction to it. Jenson had managed to pull this one out of the bag rather successfully. “So nobody thinks this is our party?” Fernando asked, wrapping his arms round Mark. Jenson shook his head, moving back to the suit bags. 

“Nope. Just an amusingly themed drink with some guys.” Jenson returned.

“Who’s coming?” Mark wondered lightly. 

“There’s about eight of us in total I think… Not Seb.”

“No, that would have been rather stupid.” 

“Now.” Jenson smiled, clapping his hands together. Fernando instinctively pulled himself closer to Mark. “We’re heading to a cl-bar first just to get the party started-”

“-And to get everyone smashed.” Mark amended to Fernando. 

“Then we will end up back here to get the real party started.” Jenson grinned coyly as he passed Fernando and Mark their respective suit bags. “Go get ready then.” Jenson ushered Fernando into the bathroom and then turned back to Mark. “He’s nervous.”

“He’s Fernando.” Mark corrected, unzipping his suit bag. He was glad Jessica had played part in this particular aspect on the evening because who knew what kind of garish thing Jenson would have tried to force him into. It turned out to be pretty simply; just a grey suit with a white shirt. Jenson amused himself with setting out the drinks whilst Mark changed. 

“Is he Ok with this?” Jenson asked quietly, in some respects hoping Mark hadn’t heard him. Mark did and he gave a light laugh to the Brit. 

“Of course he is. He’s just paranoid something bad will happen. Considering the year we’ve had it’s quite a reasonable reaction.” Mark said, pulling the new shirt on having just finished buttoning his trousers. Jenson nodded a little and Mark crossed to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Just give him as many drinks as you can and he’ll forget all about it.”

“Have I ever seen drunk Fernando before?” Jenson asked, looking over at Mark with a smirk. 

“Maybe not. You will tonight.” Mark smiled. They both turned around as the bathroom door opened and Mark really had to thank Jessica the next time he saw her. She had got Fernando in a red shirt that he had rolled to his elbows, which hugged his small frame, making all of the details of his muscles that Mark loved stand out. The black trousers he had on complimented the colours and made the tanned colour of his skin even more enticing. Mark stood with his mouth open slightly and Fernando looked over at him, feeling instantly bashful. Mark moved over to him, running a hand lightly over his torso and onto his shoulder, hand sliding under the soft folds of material to touch his skin. “You look amazing.” Mark complimented quietly, making Fernando blush a little more. Fernando’s hands reached for Mark’s open shirt and Mark moved his hand off of Fernando. 

“Not too bad yourself.” Fernando grinned, leaving the first three buttons of Mark’s shirt and exposing a lot of his bare chest. 

“You actually going to do my shirt up, mate?” Mark teased and Fernando’s fingers reluctantly did the third button up. Mark watched Fernando’s face as the Spaniard sent little shocks of pleasure running over his skin. His hand grew closer and closer to the waistband of his trousers and Mark closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling Fernando was washing over his body. Fernando briefly pressed their lips together and moved his hands from the Australian as he finished with the shirt. Mark smirked at him. “You tease.”

“Apparently am good at this.” Fernando grinned, wrapping his arms around Mark’s waist. Mark did likewise and pressed a kiss to Fernando’s forehead. 

“Should we go then? The others will be wondering where we are.” Jenson asked. Mark nodded as he took Fernando’s hand and followed the Brit from the room. But Fernando didn’t miss one tiny detail that freaked him out slightly: Jenson had a notepad. 

\- - -

Everyone was drunk. There was no denying it. Lewis could barely stay on his feet. Nico Rosberg wouldn’t stop talking. Romain wouldn’t stop laughing. Kimi was observing all of them with a smirk. Felipe was trying to make everyone believe he was fine. Jenson was grinning stupidly at everyone. Mark was just trying to keep an eye on Fernando at the same time as not falling off his chair, but that was to little purpose because Fernando was basically lying on him and forcing him off the chair. Somehow, in the disarray, they had managed to get from the bar to the strip club and the strip club back to the hotel. Mark currently had a learners sign pinned to his back due to the fact he couldn’t get a girl to give him her number. Fernando hadn’t found that part of the evening very fun, watching Mark trying to chat-up someone else wasn’t amusing in his book, and that was when he hit the drink. Hard. 

“We have to do a thing!” Jenson suddenly exclaimed, getting to his feet but falling into Nico’s arms instead. They laughed spectacularly as Jenson stood upright again and climbed onto a chair. He gripped the top of the wardrobe tightly as he swayed slightly. “We have a thing to do!”

“What thing?” Lewis said, slipping further down his seat. 

“We have to play true or dare!” Jenson slurred and unanimous agreement circulated in front of him. 

“Mark?” Fernando muttered quietly, his lips pressed to the lobe of his fiancée’s ear. 

“Mmm?” Mark hummed, dropping his head to look down at Fernando. Fernando’s eyes were dark and Mark couldn’t work out if that was an effect of the drink or something else. 

“Horny.” Fernando said, pushing himself closer to Mark. Mark tried to hold him back a little and think coherently but the two of them were sent spinning off the bed with a loud crash, much to the amusement of the others. 

“Mark start!” Jenson called as Mark’s head appeared from beside the bed. Mark tried to focus on the swaying form of Jenson or even just remember what Jenson was requesting him to do. He failed on both accounts as Fernando’s arm wrapped round his waist, reaching towards his groin. Mark caught his hand and held it tightly, hearing a small huff from behind him. 

“Chicken?” Mark tried and a snicker of a laugh shot around the room. 

“No, Mark.” Jenson smiled as he wobbly hopped off the chair. “Dare or truth?” Mark pondered it for a moment.

“Dare.” Mark smiled with a nod. Fernando pressed himself to Mark’s back and rested his head on his shoulder. 

“Kiss Ferrari Boy!” Romain giggled from his corner, pointing at Fernando. 

“He does that all the time, Romain. That’s not going to be hard.” Nico sighed. 

“What do you know, Princess?” Romain asked incoherently, falling into a fit of laughter. Everyone turned they’re attention back to Mark. 

“Run round the hotel naked!” Felipe smiled excitedly. Jenson’s eyes flashed. 

“I like that.”

“Hold on, the whole hotel?” Mark asked, small sense of panic in his voice. 

“Would you want to do that hard?” Fernando purred extremely quietly in his ear. Mark swallowed nervously. “Look very hard now.”

“Ok, just this floor.” Jenson amended. 

“Can use your sign to cover yourself if you wish.” Lewis added and everyone nodded. Mark got up and moved into the bathroom to a cheer, rolling his eyes. Fernando followed him. Mark turned to the Spaniard slightly confused as he closed the door. 

“Let me help.” Fernando said, dropping to his knees in front of Mark and pulling on his belt. Mark helped him back to his feet. 

“Later.” Mark said as Fernando pulled at his buttons. Fernando gave a frustrated whimper. 

“Want you now.” He begged, running his hands over Mark’s now bare torso. Mark grabbed his wrists. 

“Later.” Mark repeated. Fernando huffed. Taking the sign off of Mark’s shirt, Fernando attached it to Mark’s belt as the Australian rid himself of his trousers and underwear. Fernando was reluctant to hand the belt back, his eyes fixated on Mark’s half-hard cock. He tried to move closer but Mark held him at arms length. 

“Please. Will be quick.” Fernando assured, trying fruitlessly to get closer to Mark. Mark shook his head, pulling the belt from Fernando’s hands. 

“Promise later.” Mark tried but his voice gave out when he saw the straining bulge of Fernando’s own cock. He shook his head. “Later.”

“As reward for doing dare?” Fernando tried, moving closer to Mark.

“Later.” Mark said sternly and moved over to the door. Fernando bit his lip as he observed his fiancée's naked arse moving away from him. As soon as Mark opened the bathroom door the wolf whistling began. He blushed slightly as they all started cheering. “Fuck off.” He smirked. 

“He said one of the words!” Nico exclaimed. Mark, mentally, cursed again. Jenson had a list of words that were forbidden, most of which were in Mark’s usual repertoire of words. Fuck being one of them. Fernando was another but a couple of the other drivers, like Nico, had been put in as well. The punishment for saying one of these words was the vilest shot someone could get their hands on. A shot of Jägermeister was placed in Mark’s hand and he poured it down his throat, just happy it wasn’t tequila. 

“Ok. So this floor is a circle,” Jenson started, showing Mark his poorly drawn map of the floor. “You have to go all the way round. We’re going to position ourselves in teams around so we can make sure you do it.” Jenson finished, tearing the map out of his notepad for Mark. Mark just nodded and waited for them all to leave, only Fernando and Kimi remained in the room with him. 

“Nice arse.” Kimi smirked from his relaxed position on the bed. Mark turned to face him as he sipped from his bottle. 

“Jealous?” Mark teased back, showing no shame. Kimi just chuckled, shaking his head as he took a longer drink. Fernando was holding a phone to his ear and slipping down the wall he was leaning on. As Mark straightened him back up, emitting cute giggles from the befuddled Spaniard, Fernando waved his hands at him. 

“Jenson says go.” Fernando said. Mark placed a kiss gently on his forehead before dashing out of the room, useless map being crumpled in his hand. Why he was doing this had completely vacated the Australian’s head. Head down, he dashed forwards. He passed by Felipe, Nico and Romain about a third of the way round, getting cheers and wolf-whistles as he did. He saluted to them as he dashed past and saw them head back the way he came as he continued. 

He saw the cleaner before she saw him and deciding that it was too late to do anything now anyway he jumped over the low protruding broom handle and carried on, swearing he heard a gasp as he took the third corner. Lewis tried to block his path but in his intoxicated state he missed, arms wrapping round nothing just after Mark had past and falling to the floor. Mark could hear him laughing his head off as Jenson joined him and carried on with him until the end.  
“I can’t believe you’ve actually done this.” Jenson laughed as they rounded the last corner. Nico, Romain, Felipe and Fernando were all cheering from the open hotel room. Mark shrugged. 

“Dare is a dare, mate.” Mark breathed, falling to a stop as he dove into the room. Someone threw him his pants and he pulled them on gratefully, taking his jeans from the side. “Your turn now Jensey-boy.” Mark grinned. Fernando took Mark’s hand as they sat down. 

“Truth.” Jenson returned, retaking his place across from Mark. Mark pushed his arms into his shirt but didn’t bother buttoning it up. 

“Truth?” Mark returned, slightly outraged. 

“Fuck knows what you’d get me to do after that. Truth.” Jenson explained. Romain exclaimed and a shot of tequila was put in Jenson’s hand. Fernando was the one to pipe up next once the shot had disappeared down Jenson’s throat.

“When will you asked Jessica to marrying your… You?” Fernando slurred. Jenson’s cheeks turned a bit red. 

“What?” Jenson tried. Fernando just grinned. 

“When will be asking to Jessica if the marry thing…” Fernando asked again, leaning on Mark’s shoulder. 

“Does anyone know what he’s saying?” Jenson laughed humourlessly. No one believed he didn’t understand. 

“You know what he’s asking.” Lewis smirked. 

“Is clear in your face.” Felipe added. 

“You did ask for a truth.” Nico pointed out. Jenson rolled his eyes. 

“I thought girlfriends weren’t allowed.” Jenson protested. 

“No rule against conversation.” Romain giggled. 

“So we’re all teenage girls now?” Jenson pressed. 

“If this makes it easier for you to answer the question.” Kimi shrugged. Jenson shot him a reproaching look before rolling his eyes. 

“I really don’t think-”

“-Just answer the question, Jense.” Mark sighed, pulling Fernando closer too him, the Spaniard’s head still resting on his shoulder. Jenson tried to plea with Mark by using his eyes but the Australian was having none of it. Not after what Jenson had just had him do. Sighing deeply, Jenson relented. 

“I don’t know.” Sighed he. 

“Liar.” Kimi muttered. No one really heard him. 

“What? This must be soon.” Fernando blurted out, sitting forwards a little in shock. Jenson looked at the floor. 

“I’m not sure.”

“You have to! If Ma-” Fernando started. Mark pulled his fiancée back into his arms before things could get a little out of hand. 

“Shh.” Mark muttered in his ear and Fernando clamped a hand to his mouth, realising what he had almost done. It’s not that they cared if the other drivers found out about the wedding they just didn’t want to answer the question of ‘why aren’t I invited?’ It wasn’t worth the hassle. Jenson grabbed at the opportunity Fernando presented him with. 

“El Nano’s go.” Jenson declared. 

“You did not answer.” Kimi pointed out. Jenson turned to him. 

“Yes I did: I don’t know.”

“Right.” Kimi said in a tone that was clear he didn’t believe the Brit. Jenson ignored him and turned back to Fernando. 

“Truth or dare?” Jenson asked. Fernando had a feeling a dare would be similar treatment to what Mark got and Fernando embarrassed a lot more easily than Mark. He decided to play it safe. 

Or what he thought was safe. 

“Truth.” He muttered, relaxing into Mark. 

“How long have you been with Mark?” Nico said, lying down on his stomach on the bed and placing his chin in his palms, twisting his ankles in the air. Fernando tried to ignore him. “Fernando?” Nico tried when the Spaniard pretended to be asleep. Mark nudged his shoulder. 

“Why do people keep asking for truths when they don’t want to answer?” Lewis queried. Fernando cracked one of his eyes open. 

“Another truth. Promise I will answer the next one.” Fernando tired to bargain. Mark smiled down at him. 

“Doesn’t quite work like that.” The Australian grinned. 

“Do you want to tell them?” 

“I really don’t care, mate, most of them are so pissed they won’t remember in the morning anyway.” Mark said softly. Fernando closed his eyes.

“India.” He muttered quietly, feeling the blood run to his face.

“What!” Nico announced, shocked. 

“How did we fucking miss that?” Lewis frowned to himself. 

“For sure, would have thought I had seen…” Felipe mused. Kimi remained quiet on the bed, taking another long sip from his drink. Jenson, obviously, already knew this information. But Romain was waving frantically at Lewis because he had said “fuck.’ A shot of Amaretto was placed in his hand and Lewis winced and coughed as the sweet taste swirled bitterly over his tongue. 

“Ok, Lewis,” Fernando designated. Lewis blinked over at him. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Lewis said and Jenson smirked, flipping to a new page in his notepad. 

\- -

The games continued until too much alcohol was consumed for anyone to be able to remember the rules. Fernando and Mark had been staying away from it though, feeling comfortable that they had joined in enough. As the night got older Fernando began to tiredly glue himself to Mark, a couple of times his words being tangled with a stifled yawn. When Romain and Felipe started a dance competition Fernando was basically asleep in his lap. Taking hold of the Spaniard’s hand he led him over to where Jenson was sitting. 

“We’re off.” Mark muttered. Jenson looked over to him sadly. 

“What?”

“It’s been fantastic, mate, you’ve really got no idea.”

“Was, Jenson, perfect party.” Fernando smiled tiredly. 

“Don’t make too much of a deal of us going, I don’t think anyone will notice.” Mark smiled, glancing over to Lewis who had just started trying to rap as Felipe, Romain and Nico danced. Jenson got up and wrapped his arms around Mark. 

“I’ll see you at the wedding then.” Jenson smiled quietly in Mark’s ear. Mark beamed at him as he lent back. 

“Absolutely. Can’t believe it’s so close.” Fernando rubbed his hand up Mark’s arm soothingly at the Australian’s words, smiling adoringly. 

“If you need any cover for cost, Jenson-” Fernando started, gesturing to the room with his eyes. Jenson waved his comment away. 

“No. Definitely not. Your party so I’m paying. Part of my duty.” Jenson stated. Fernando pulled him into a hug. 

“Gracias.” Fernando muttered and Jenson patted his back. 

“No problem. You take care of him; he may seem like he’s got it together but he can easily fall apart.” Jenson pressed softly and Fernando nodded, taking Mark’s hand again. 

“Know this. Will always take care of him…” Fernando looked up at him with that adoring expression again. “Until we are old and grey.” Fernando smiled. Jenson could see they were going to do it properly. Forever. It was written all over their faces. 

“He needs you.” Jenson commented. 

“Thanks for making me sound desperate, mate.” Mark scoffed. 

“As much as I need him.” Fernando said softly, touching Mark’s cheek. With one more final goodbye each they snuck out of Jenson’s room and headed down the stairs to their own. They didn’t say anything to each other until they were back in their room, standing in each other’s arms, slowly undressing one another. 

“Just over a week.” Mark sighed, slipping Fernando’s shirt off his shoulders. “Just over a week and we will be the Alonso-Webber’s.”

“You prefer this way?” Fernando asked, pulling Mark’s belt from his waist. Mark brushed the hair out of Fernando’s face delicately. 

“Better ring to it.” Mark smiled and Fernando pushed himself up to capture his lips and wrapped his arms around his neck, trying to be as close to Mark as possible. Mark’s fingers frantically fought with the front of Fernando’s trousers as he tried to blindly undo them. Fernando just giggled at him as he broke the kiss. 

“Is actually now a week.” Fernando smiled, pointing out the time. Half three in the morning. 

“It’s such a good thing we don’t have to go anywhere tomorrow.” Mark sighed, pushing Fernando’s trousers to the floor and watching them puddle around his ankles. Leading Fernando back to the bed both of them were simply dressed in their boxers. Mark drew lines up and down Fernando’s side once they had lain down. 

“Can stay in hotel all day…” Fernando hummed, shifting closer to Mark. “Stay in bed all day…”

“Mmm… We’ll go home and it will only be six days until our wedding…” Mark sighed, kissing Fernando again. Fernando manoeuvred himself in such a way that Mark’s hand fell onto of his errection through his boxers. Mark broke the kiss, thinking he had accidently moved too fast when Fernando hissed, even if it was unintentional contact. “Sorry.”

“Did this deliberately.” Fernando sighed, pushing his hips towards Mark’s hand. 

“Why?”

“Want you to know what you do to me.” Fernando opened his eyes to look up at Mark, pupils blown wide with lust. Mark climbed on top of him and Fernando spread his legs in invitation. Mark scraped the hair off Fernando’s face and cupped his cheek. 

“Still horny, huh?” Mark teased. Fernando reached around Mark’s neck and pulled him closer, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“You do this to me. Only you.” Fernando sighed, beaming up at Mark with big, hypnotic eyes. 

“It’s a two way street, mate.” Mark brought his hips closer to Fernando’s as he let one hand travel down the Spaniard’s side and hook just under the elastic waistband of his underwear. 

“Please…” Fernando breathed, trying to force Mark’s hand to move. Mark lent close to him, brushing his lips up his jawline. 

“Always for you, Fernando… Hasta somos seamos mayores y canosos.” Mark pressed their lips together as he slid his hand into the material of Fernando’s underwear and made the man below him moan pleasurably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I hear Wedding bells?


	37. Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have great hopes that we shall love each other all our lives as much as if we had never married at all”   
> ~Lord Byron~

It had been a long week. Fernando couldn’t quite believe how quickly it had all breezed past. It was weird knowing Mark wasn’t in the house. Or, that Mark was in the house and he wasn’t. Fernando had gone to Lorena’s house to get ready. It seemed odd to be arriving from two different places but Mark had been insistent on the tradition, and if Fernando was honest, he had wanted it too. Every little thing to make it all seem real. Fernando was desperately trying to cling onto reality and he thought about what he was about to do. He was about to marry Mark. Somehow the enormousness of that concept refused to sink in. But it was happening. Fernando looked down at himself, pulling at the crisp cuffs of his white shirt. 

This really was happening. 

“Stop fiddling.” Lorena smiled, appearing by his shoulder in his reflection. He sent her a soft smile, breathing deeply. “Everything is still fine.”

“Why is it I get the house full of women?” Fernando asked in a soft tease as Lorena brushed the creases down his back. 

“Technically you are the bride?” Lorena jibbed. Fernando rolled his eyes. 

“Thank you for this.” He said sarcastically. Lorena smiled at him over his shoulder before returning her gaze to his back. 

“You know you can see your tattoo through this, don’t you, Nano.” Lorena asked as he turned around. Fernando gave her a bashful smile that let her know it was probably the reason he was wearing that specific shirt. “Jacket?” She asked, holding it out for him. Fernando gave her a soft nod before slipping the thin blazer onto his shoulders. He returned to the mirror and looked at himself again. 

“Mi bebé se ve tan guapo…” Ana gasped, entering the room. Fernando turned to face her and she came over to fuss with his hair. Emitting deep breaths, he cherished his mother’s soft touch. It was calming. Soothing. It relaxed him in the same way Mark could. So simple yet so effective. 

“Gracias.” He muttered as Lorena dropped his tie over his shoulders. 

Deep breaths. 

\- - -

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

Heikki knew being in Spain was incriminating enough, but he had to say something. It was eating up at him. He ran a nervous hand through his hair as the brunette in the pyjamas answered the door.

“Hello?” She yawned, her hair looking messy. Heikki looked over her shoulder. 

“Is Dasha here?” He asked. She frowned at him. 

“Yes…” 

“Can I talk to her?”

“Are you Sebastian?” the brunette asked. Heikki shook his head which seemed to be enough for the brunette. He lingered awkwardly in the doorway as Dasha descended the stairs. She was already dressed up in a midnight blue halter neck dress with her hair in soft ringlets. Heikki had to admit she looked breath taking. 

“What does he want?” Dasha snapped, crossing her arms and glaring at him. Heikki took a tentative step forwards. 

“I don’t work for Sebastian any more.” Heikki said confidently. Dasha blinked at him. 

“What?”

“I don’t work for Sebastian. I’ve gone back to my gym in Finland.” Heikki explained. Dasha frowned. 

“What are you doing here then?”

“I have to tell you something.” He said. She descended the last few stairs. 

“Ok?” She consulted her watch. 

“Are you headed somewhere?” Heikki asked as Dasha placed one of her manicured nails between her teeth. 

“A wedding…” She muttered, not entirely thinking. Heikki’s stomach dropped. 

“That’s today?” Dasha looked as if he had just punched her in the gut. 

“What?” She breathed. 

“Ok, shit. Can I have your phone?”

“My friends wedding.” Dasha tried to cover. Heikki waved a hand at her. 

“Whatever. Phone?”

“Paula! And… And Douglas! Yes, Paula and Douglas’-”

“-Dasha if you don’t give me your phone he’s going to get at them again.” Heikki said demandingly. Dasha’s frown returned to her face. 

“What’s he doing?” She asked. In Heikki’s opinion, she sounded more intrigued than annoyed. 

“It doesn’t matter, I'm- We’re putting a stop to it.” He said, holding his hand out insistently. Dasha continued to frown at him. 

“A stop to what?”

“Do you remember, when you flew out here, a man sitting next to you on the plane?” Heikki asked, folding his arms. Dasha was even more confused. 

“Yes, but-?”

“-Brown hair, green eyes. Held your hand as we took off?” Heikki questioned. Suddenly his cheek was stinging from the impact of her hand. “Fuck!”

“I don’t know what you did but you’re despicable for it.” Dasha spat as Heikki straightened up. 

“I didn’t mean-”

“-It was you!” Dasha spat in surprise. Heikki felt the weight of disappointment hit his shoulders. 

“Seb asked me to-”

“-You’re unbelievable!” Dasha seethed. Heikki grabbed her arm as she moved to leave the room. 

“That’s why I’m here. I’m sorry I did that but I need your phone.”

“Why?”

“He’s set something up.” Heikki muttered before explaining Sebastian’s plan to Dasha. She mainly just sat and listened to him with her lips pressed tightly together and her arms folded. It didn’t deter him. He told her everything Sebastian had told him. 

“What is he going to do with them then?” Dasha asked sourly. Heikki shrugged. 

“I don’t know. I left before I could find out.”

“Great messenger you are.” Dasha shot sarcastically. Heikki rolled his eyes. 

“Look, I’ve told you, now we can stop it. You’ve just got to-”

“-I know what I need to do, thanks.” Dasha seethed, pushing Heikki’s waiting hand out of her face. 

“Do you know h-?”

“-Yes I know how!” Dasha spat. Her brunette friend came into the room. 

“Everything alright?” She asked. Dasha got to her feet. 

“Brilliant. Heikki was just leaving.” She stated. Heikki got to his feet. 

“Just tell me you’ll delete it. Then I’m done, I’m out. I’m no longer involved and neither are you.” Heikki almost pleaded. 

“My phone’s upstairs. I’ll do it in a second.” Dasha nodded. With a grateful smile, Heikki left. When Dasha collected her stuff to head out to Fernando’s sister’s house, she found it. Just as Heikki had said. And it would have been so easy to delete it. The trash button just below her thumb. But she didn’t. She locked the device, tapping it three times on her chin before dropping it in her bag. 

Because this could possibly help her, in some way, to get Fernando back. 

\- - -

“Another?” Jenson smiled, handing out more bottles of beer. Mark hadn’t touched any but Alan was certainly not refusing.

“See, Mark? Jenson knows how to have a party.” Alan teased. Mark rolled his eyes. 

“What do you think today is?” Mark smiled softly, pushing his hand in his pocket. He reached for the beer Jenson was offering but his mum replaced it with a glass of water. Mark sighed a laugh. 

“There is no way I am letting you drink before you get married, Mark.” Diane said firmly, putting the beer back in the fridge. Alan caught her on her return to the room. 

“He’s fine.” Alan smiled. Diane gave him a serious look. 

“Now, yes. God knows what state Jenson and you would give him to Fernando in.” Diane said. Mark and Jenson exchanged a smile at the memory of the bachelor party. Something Mark had happily forgotten to tell his mum about; he didn’t think she would be too impressed with him running around the hotel naked. 

“You have such little faith in us.” Alan grinned. Diane rolled her eyes. 

“How are you feeling, Mark?” Diane asked softly. Mark took a sip of his water. How did he feel? Lost. He thought he wanted tradition but really he just wanted Fernando. He was antsy to get out of their house and find him. He had been gone since the evening of the day before and Mark didn’t think he had slept a wink. Not until Fernando and he had a video chat. It was odd how much he just needed to hear and see Fernando to feel content. So not having spoken to him since the night before was starting to take its toll. 

“He’s nervous.” Alan smiled. Mark stuck his tongue out at him. 

“What, no wise crack response, Mark? Woah, Alan, he really is nervous.” Jenson teased. Mark suddenly pulled his phone out of his pocket and smiled. 

“Excuse me.” Mark said softly, causing everyone to frown slightly. He walked out of the spare room and up into their bedroom, falling back on the bed as he answered the phone. 

“Tell me why I get the house full of women.” Fernando asked causing Mark to laugh lightly. He closed his eyes, imagining Fernando was with him as he listened to his almost-husband’s voice. 

“Technically you are the bride…” Mark teased. 

“Hmm, Lorena says exactly this.” Fernando sighed. Mark smiled.

“Great minds, Fernando. Better get used to it.”

“Fantastic.” Fernando muttered in an already bored tone. It made Mark smile more. 

“Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?” he jested. 

“But cannot see me so are not breaking any rules.” Fernando returned smugly. 

“Someone doing your hair for you?” he poked. 

“What makes me more the bride than you?” Fernando returned swiftly. Mark laughed. 

“I think that’s obvious, mate.”

“But you are the one in grey. Grey is closer to white. Am wearing black.”

“Doesn’t quite work like that.” Mark teased. 

“Hmm…” Fernando shrugged. Mark heard the doorbell down the line. 

“You do realise you’re seeing me in about twenty minutes, right?” Mark said. Not that he didn’t want Fernando to call him – he was on the verge of doing so himself just before the Spaniard had rung – it just seemed funny they both appeared to be thinking the same. 

“Just wanted to call to see how you are.” Fernando said lightly. It was a blatant lie. Mark smiled. 

“Why are you really calling, Fernando?” He smirked. He could almost feel Fernando’s blush down the phone. He heard a door closed. 

“How are the dogs?” Fernando asked again. Mark openly laughed at him. 

“You really can’t just admit why you called can you.”

“Will laugh at me…” Fernando muttered. Mark rolled onto his side. 

“I promise I won’t.” He smiled. 

“Will.”

“I won’t, Fernando.”

“Do not know this.”

“I do.”

“How?”

“Because if you hadn’t have call I would have.” Mark smiled softly, lying his head down on his arm. 

“Oh…” Fernando said in such an adorably innocent but understanding voice Mark wanted to tear through the phone to see him. He rolled onto his back, throwing his free arm out beside him. 

“This isn’t fair.” Mark sighed. 

“What isn’t?” Fernando asked, a hint of panic in his voice. 

“How can I miss you this much? It’s been twelve hours if that!” Mark exclaimed. Fernando laughed lightly down the phone. “Not funny, Fernando. I used to be an independent stud. Just look what you’ve done to me.”

“A change for the better I think.” Jenson called through the door. Mark felt his face flush red. 

“Huh?” Fernando requested softly. Mark pushed himself up onto his elbows. 

“Nothing. Jenson’s just looking for an invite to a party with my fist.” Mark said almost casually. 

“I heard that.” Jenson returned. 

“You were meant to.” Mark called back. He waited to hear the telltale creak of the second step down the stairs to tell Mark Jenson had gone before he returned his attention to Fernando. “I know your house too well.”

“Our house.” Fernando corrected. The smiled broke across Mark’s face before he could stop it. 

“Right… Tell me again why I thought this was a good idea?” Mark sighed, falling back on the bed. 

“What was a good idea?” Fernando said, panic more than clear in his voice this time. Mark wanted to pull him close to him. The distance sucked. 

“Getting ready in different places and letting our friends and family get involved.” Mark smiled, hearing Fernando’s little sigh of relief. 

“Do not know… Mama keeps faffing with my hair…” Fernando muttered. Mark smiled. 

“How’s your Dad holding up?” Mark asked. When he was met with silence he regretted his words instantly. 

“He… Errh…” Mark’s hand tightened its hold on the device pressed to his ear. 

“He’s not there is he.” There was a short pause. 

“No.”

“Son of a bitch…” Mark breathed. 

“Is fine.” Fernando tried to say positively. His voice just sounded broken to Mark. 

“It’s not though, is it.”

“He does not understand. Would not want him here.”

“Fernando-”

“-I have to go now.” Fernando dropped in almost reluctantly. Mark pushed the phone closer to his ear. 

“Why?” Mark pleaded. Guilt panged in Fernando’s stomach. 

“Dasha is here… She wants to talk…” Fernando sighed, trying to show just how little he wanted to stop talking to Mark to talk to Dasha.

“About?” Mark said, a little harshly. Fernando frowned. 

“Do not know.”

“Right.” Mark bit. Fernando frowned deeper. 

“Are OK?”

“Fine, mate.” Mark sighed, returning his voice to normal. Fernando knew there was something up but the soft knock on his door made him push it to the back of his mind. 

“Will see you soon.” Fernando smiled.

“Very soon, mate.” Mark promised. 

“Te amo.”

“Te amo, Fernando, hasta estemos mayores y canosos.” Fernando smiled at Mark’s words. 

“Do not want to hang up.” Fernando sighed. It had been easy during the night; they had both fallen asleep. Neither of them had to physically hang up because the call had been disconnected when Mark’s phone had run out of charge. The knock was repeated on his door. 

“We’ll go together.”

“You know this didn’t work last time.” Fernando smiled. 

“Fernando? Can we come in?” Lorena called from behind the door. 

“Really have to go now…” Fernando sighed sadly. 

“Eleven minutes, bub.” Mark said gently. Fernando nodded. 

“Ten and a half to be-”

“-Alright, just because I’m marrying you doesn’t mean you get to get all clever with me.” Mark teased. Fernando let out a small laugh. 

“Will be out in a second.” Lorena said to Dasha. Dasha just nodded, looking only at the door. Lorena frowned at her. 

“Who is he on the phone to?” Dasha asked, folding her arms as Fernando’s soft laugh echoed through the wood. 

“Mark, probably. He just said he needed a minute.” Lorena shrugged. Dasha bit the inside of her lip in frustration. 

“Right.” She said in a monotone. Lorena turned to ask her why she was even here but Fernando appeared in the doorway as she turned, so she thought she should leave it for now. Fernando passed Dasha a smile before Dasha pulled him in for a hug. 

“Nice dress.” Fernando commented as she let go. Dasha smiled as she smoothed it over her stomach. 

“Nice suit. Going somewhere special?” Dasha smiled lightly. Fernando gave her a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. She could see he was nervous. “Can I have a word?” 

“Sure.” Fernando gestured for her to go inside. Lorena grabbed his shoulder before he could disappear after her. 

“You Ok?” She asked. Fernando nodded. 

“Am fine.”

“How is Mark?” 

“Good.” Fernando smiled. Lorena rubbed his shoulder. 

“Are going to leave in five minutes.”

“Will be ready.”

“Just make sure she is.” Lorena said pointedly before moving down the stairs. Fernando took a deep breath before he returned into the room. Dasha was sitting at the end of his bed, playing his phone through her hands. 

“How is the baby?” Fernando asked, instantly regretting it. He didn’t want to be thinking about that today. Dasha’s eyes lit up though; she believed he had obviously been thinking about it. 

“Good. Just as good as it was a couple of weeks ago.” Dasha smiled. Fernando sat next to her. 

“Good.” Fernando said, nodding his head. 

“This is a nice picture.” Dasha said softly, handing Fernando back his phone. Fernando unlocked it to see the picture Mark had taken of the candle-filled pool. It couldn’t mean as much to anyone else at it did to Fernando. Fernando smiled. 

“Thank you.”

“Funny, I… No…” Dasha looked down at her hands, causing Fernando to frown. 

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me.” He requested, nudging her shoulder. Dasha shook her head. “Is my wedding day.” Fernando guilt-tripped. Dasha felt ice shoot through her. 

“I just thought it would be a picture of Mark…” She shrugged. Fernando nodded understandingly. “When we were together it used to be me…”

“Is Mark.” Fernando said. Dasha frowned at him. “In an odd way.”

“Right…” She waited for more of an explanation but it didn’t come. She knew she was running out of time when she heard a car pull up outside. “You seem nervous.”

“Am, a little…” Fernando admitted, breathing deeply. Dasha ran a hand across his back. 

“It’s Ok. If this is too fast you can postpone. No one will hate you for it.” She cooed. Fernando frowned at her like she was mental. 

“What?”

“Mark will understand. If you’re not ready that’s fine.” Dasha said softly. Fernando blinked at her. 

“Do not understand.”

“It’s a big step, Fernando. Everything has happened quickly for Mark and you. It’s Ok to want some more time.”

“Do not want more time.” Fernando said, still frowning. Dasha’s hand fell from his back. 

“Huh?”

“Have never been more sure about anything.” Fernando said. Dasha suddenly felt silly. 

“That’s good then.” Dasha said bashfully. Fernando turned to face her. 

“Am nervous because this is a big step, yes. But am more excited for what comes next.” He said softly. Dasha folded her arms. 

“That’s really great, Fernando.” Dasha said. Fernando couldn’t work out her tone. 

“Are you-?”

“-Ready?” Lorena asked, bursting through the door. Dasha stood, nodding and crossed out of the room. Fernando suddenly felt frozen to the bed. “Need two seconds?” Lorena smiled. Fernando just nodded. She left the door open, heading back down the stairs. Fernando pushed himself to his feet, putting his phone in his pocket. He stood in front of the mirror giving himself one last check over. If Mark were here he would definitely laugh at him. Straightening his tie, Fernando took a deep breath and moved out of the room. 

\- - -

“Do not care what you want, you are coming.”

“Am not.”

“Are!”

“You cannot make me.”

“Try me.”

\- - -

Everyone had gone in. Fernando swallowed, feeling his hands turn clammy. He winched as fingers slipped through his. Great, now Mark knows how nervous I am. Fernando cringed. The soft laugh of his almost-husband beside him was relaxing. A normal sound in such an intense place. He fell back in the chair, resting his head on Mark’s shoulder. The gently touch of Mark’s lips to his forehead made his eyes fall shut as he focused on steadying the in-out of his ragged breathing. 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous.” Mark muttered softly. Fernando nodded a little as Mark ran a finger over his left ring finger. It was weird to not have anything on there now. They had taken them off about ten minutes ago and Fernando felt like he had lost something. Mark had Fernando’s engagement ring tucked safely in his inside pocket. Jenson had the other two. The ones they were about to put on. Fernando curled closer to Mark. “Did you know he was coming?”

“He was invited.”

“Yeah, I just thought when he didn’t show earlier that he wasn’t going to show.” Mark looked down at Fernando to see he now had his eyes open. “Is that making you nervous?”

“A little…” Fernando muttered. Mark kissed his temple again. 

“It’s going to be fine, bub. Just pretend he isn’t here.” Fernando just nodded. The concept of declaring just how much he loved Mark seemed more daunting now he knew He was here. “What did Dasha want?”

“Huh?” Fernando asked, sitting up and turning to look at Mark properly. 

“On the phone. You said you had to go because Dasha wanted a word.”

“Oh.” Fernando nodded, leaning back on Mark’s shoulder. “Not important.”

“Well then what did she want?”

“Just to wish us luck.” Fernando lied. Mark wasn’t buying it. 

“If you don’t want to tell me because you think it will worry me, it’s worrying me now not knowing.” Mark said softly. Fernando sighed. 

“Does not change anything.” He insisted. That panicked Mark more. 

“Very aware, mate.” Mark smiled a little. 

“She-”

“-Alonso-Webber?” The woman who had signed then in asked, crossing over to them. Considering they were the only two people sitting in the waiting room Mark felt her question was a little pointless. Nevertheless, he nodded, standing and offering his hand to Fernando. Fernando smiled up at him, threading their fingers together. 

“Tell me later?” Mark asked quietly as they followed the woman through. 

“Of course.” Fernando promised. Right now wasn’t about thinking about anyone else. It was for them, just the two of them. He barely registered anyone he passed as Mark lead him to the desk at the end of the room. The room wasn’t very big; they stood about six feet in front of the first row. Fernando didn’t care. All that mattered was the fact he could see Jenson and Jessica sitting in the front row and that Mark was beside him. This was actually happening. And Fernando couldn’t remember how to not smile. The old registrar stood in front of them dressed in a simple suit. It was calming. The first meeting Fernando and Mark had had with the registry office they had met with a man wearing too many colours. The man smiled at them, gesturing for them to sit in the two chairs in front of him. Mark shuffled his chair closer to Fernando’s never letting their fingers slip apart.

The service basically happened twice. Once in Spanish and then repeated in English. Mark understood both and the subtle squeezes on Fernando’s hand during the Spanish rendition made Fernando abundantly clear of that fact. Mark found it difficult to not constantly look at Fernando. He kept stealing glances, running his fingers over the back of Fernando’s hand. This was weird begin sat, but also good as it was restraining Mark’s movements. If they were standing he knew how difficult it would be for Mark to keep his hands to himself. Fernando was addicting for him, more so now radiating so happily. Mark never wanted to see the smile off his face again. 

“The grooms have decided to add their own vows to this service, and they shall be delivered on the exchange of the rings.” The man said. He gestured Mark and Fernando to stand. “Do we have the rings?” Both Mark and Fernando looked round at Jenson who, more than happily, got to his feet and strode over. He clapped Mark’s back lightly as he placed both of the rings in the centre of the registrar’s book. The registrar nodded before Jenson went to retrieve Jessica, looking stunning in her pink/cream knee-length dress. They stood to Mark and Fernando’s left as the aforementioned pair turned to face each other. The registrar turned to Fernando.

“Please repeat after me,” The registrar said. The words caught Fernando’s breath. He had never felt so ready for anything in his life but now it was happening. Really happening. Mark also took his free hand and held them both tightly, supporting him with his eyes. Fernando gave a small nod and Mark smiled at him. “I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, Fernando Alonso-Díaz,”

“I call upon the persons here present to witness that I, Fernando Alonso-Díaz,” Fernando repeated, his voice stronger than he expected it to be. He cheek’s refused to relax even as the ache of smiling began to pull through them.

“Take this man, Mark Alan Webber,”

“Take this man… Mark Alan Webber,” Fernando had dreamed about saying this. His imagination was nothing on the real thing. He could see the emotion fighting in Mark’s eyes. 

“To be my lawfully wedded husband.”

“To be my lawfully wedded husband.” The first tear spilled down Mark’s cheek and Fernando wanted nothing more than to catch it with his lips. “To have and to hold, from this day forwards… For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer… In sickness and in health… To love and to cherish from this day forwards, until death do us part.” 

“Mr Webber,” The registrar said. There was no subtle way of drying his eyes. He didn’t care. Hearing it twice was too much. The Spanish had taken his breath away but the English knocked him off his feet. Confirmation that he was translating correctly. Confirmation this was actually happening. Fernando ran one hand across Mark’s cheek and caught the moisture, smiling fondly. Mark held his hand tightly in his as he nodded for the registrar to continue. 

“I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, Mark Alan Webber, take this man, Fernando Alonso-Díaz, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forwards, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health to love and to cherish from this day forwards, until death do us part.” Mark’s eyes bubbled over again as Fernando beamed brighter. The Spaniard’s eyes were sparkling the same way but he seemed to be trying to hold on to himself. Fernando just wanted to see out his vows. 

“The couple have exchanged their vows in front of their friends and relatives as a symbol of the love they share between them. Each of them has now prepared their personal vows which they will deliver, binding them together with the exchange of the rings.” The registrar gestured to Fernando to start before he sat down. Mark and Fernando had thought about writing them down before hand but neither of them wanted to deliver something rehearsed or refined. They had decided the best way to do it was to speak from the heart when their time came. Fernando took a deep breath, looking nowhere but Mark’s eyes.

“Mark, we have been through some hard times over the past few months, but you have always got me through them. For the thirteen years I have known you and been your friend and have been my rock. A few weeks ago you did something for me I will never forget and I hope that one day I can find a way to return the momentous gift you gave me. This is difficult for me because I have no words that can truly express how much I love you and how much you mean to me. And I could say this all in Spanish but it makes it no more impressive. But everything I do I do for us. Am so proud of you and of us and of everything. Cannot wait to spend the rest of our lives together… Until we are old and grey.” As Fernando finished he felt the tear leak from his eye. Mark moved his hand to his face to remove it and ended up holding him until he had finished. Fernando had sounded calm but giddy as he spoke. On such a day, Mark didn’t care that his emotions were bursting on the surface. He pulled Fernando closer to him.

“When I first met you I knew you were special. And after a few weeks I knew there was no possible way I could ever get you out of my life. There was no way I would ever want to. We had our moments, moments where I’ve wanted to force you away because the pain was too much but you persistently stayed, forcing me to realise that I could never live my life without you. You are my reason. You have the ability to make me feel weak and strong at the same time. You never fail to astound me or leave me in awe and I still can’t work out how I got so lucky to have you. You are my everything. You keep me pushing when I feel like I’ve got nothing left to give. I can never thank you enough for what you do to me. No puede amarte más de lo que hago ahora. Tú eres mi alma gemela y mi razón. Te quiero. Te amo tanto.”

Mark had spectacularly done it again. His words were the perfect gift. Fernando felt he hadn’t done enough but he couldn’t seem to find the words. His emotions were flying up all over the place and he knew he just had to hold on to Mark and everything would fit in its rightful place. He wanted so badly to kiss him. Fernando’s eyes brimmed with tears that made it difficult for him to see. But Fernando could see Mark was the same. Perfect. Everything was perfect. Mark was perfect. 

“Fernando,” The registrar said, almost reluctant to pull the couple away from each other. They both turned to him. “With this ring, do you declare your love for Mark and promise never to leave him, thus signing this bonding contract in the eyes of the witnesses you have brought before you?” Fernando’s eyes glowed as he turned back to Mark. 

“I do.” He smiled. Mark laughed breathily at him in a sign of relief. Not that he had been worried, just finally hearing the words set the notion in stone. 

“And Mark, with this ring, do you declare your love for Fernando and promise never to leave him, thus signing this bonding contract in the eyes of the witnesses you have brought before you?”

“I do.” Mark voice spilled with confidence and Fernando wanted nothing more than to throw himself into his arms. 

“Then, Fernando, please take this ring and repeat after me,” the registrar smiled. Fernando picked up the ring with slightly shaky fingers. Mark clasped Fernando’s left hand in a supporting manner until Fernando had to let go to pick up Mark’s left. 

“I give you this ring as a symbol of our marriage and a token of our love.” Fernando said softly. Mark’s right hand flew to Fernando's face, cupping it gently, as Fernando slid the ring in place. Back where it should be.

“Mark, please take this ring and repeat after me.” Mark took a moment to look down at the old band he had picked up, his finger running softly over the indent of words on the inside. Verdaderas historias de amor nunca tienen un final. Mark couldn’t help but smile as he took Fernando’s hand. 

“I give you this ring as a symbol of our marriage and a token of our love.” Mark returned, sliding the ring over Fernando’s finger. Fernando couldn’t help but smile down at the gold ring, basking in everything it meant. They took each other’s hands again, with only eyes for each other. 

“Could the witnesses stand forwards.” The registrar requested. With Jessica’s hand tightly in his Jenson walked them both to Mark and Fernando. They were ushered to the side of the table where the registry book was placed in front of them. “Do you, Jenson Alexander Lyons Button and Jessica Celeste Michibata, stand before these witnesses present and affirm this marriage?”

“We do affirm it.” Jenson said, smiling at Mark and Fernando. 

“And do you swear that you are both of sound mind and fully understand what you are about to sign to testify this marriage?”

“We do swear.” Jessica finished. Jenson wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. 

“We shall have the signing of the book.” The registrar announced, indicating for Mark and Fernando to move over to the table. Five signatures lay pristinely on the page as confirmation that they had done it. Mark and Fernando had got married. They returned to the centre of the aisle. “Then by the power bestowed on me, I am happy to announce that you are now lawfully wed and belong to each other. You may kiss.” The registrar smiled. Mark didn’t need to be told twice. Catching Fernando’s cheek with his right hand he dipped his head and brushed their lips gently. Fernando’s hands found his hair instantly and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss for a moment or two. Jenson started the applause and Jenson started the wolf whistling. Neither of them cared. Mark rested his forehead on Fernando’s as the exit music began softly in the background. An instrumental version of their song played by a harpist the registry office had provided. 

“We did it.” Mark smiled, starting deeply into Fernando’s eyes. Fernando pushed their lips together once more. 

“Am yours.” He promised in a soft whisper. Mark kissed him one last time. 

“Soy tuyo.”

\- - -

The registry office had provided the photographer who had also filmed the service for them. They had two weeks to wait until the official photographs and footage was theirs. So sitting in the private hired room at the restaurant, Fernando and Mark were happily being handed phones with photos on them. Dasha had captured a truly spectacular one of the moment Mark and Fernando first kissed that had Fernando’s eyes welling up. Alan had captured a perfect one of Jenson patting Mark’s back after he hand handed over the rings. But Andrea had managed to capture Fernando’s expression as Mark had been saying his vows and it was all Mark could do not to hug him to death. Such a genuine expression; so vulnerable and open. Emails were sent and pictures were traded. 

Everyone seemed happy, talking amongst one another about the wedding, about life. Everyone in their own personal conversations. Christian, Stefano and Andrea were discussing Formula One, Alan, Diane and Ana were trading baby stories as José glared across the table at his only son. Fernando didn’t seem to notice, too wrapped up in Mark and the conversation Jenson and he were having. Jessica, Lorena, Leanne and Anne were talking about something that kept making them gasp and exclaim before diving into more rapid words whilst their respective partners, bar Jenson, were discussing sports. 

“No.” Mark smiled. Jenson folded his arms with a triumphant smirk. 

“You can’t stop me.” Jenson returned. 

“I’ll tie you to your fucking chair.” Mark returned making Fernando laugh. 

“Best man’s duty I’m afraid.” Jenson shrugged in a “what-can-you-do?” fashion. 

“And let me guess, no ‘backies’?”

“You know me too well.” Jenson grinned, reaching for his drink. Mark turned to Fernando. 

“You know this is going to spark others to say something, right.” Mark said. Fernando shrugged. 

“So people say things.”

“But you’re Dad-” Fernando had resolutely not been looking at his father. 

“-Mama will not let him.” Fernando said softly. Mark placed a gentle kiss on Fernando’s lips as Jenson stood up, tapping his glass with his spoon to gain everyone’s attention. 

“I hope you don’t all mind me taking five minutes of your time, but it’s my job today to completely embarrass Mark here.” Jenson smirked, patting Mark’s shoulder. His statement seemed to make everyone lean forwards and Alan got him phone out, setting it to record Jenson’s words. “I’ve known Mark for way to long and unfortunately, so has his husband. Now, I say unfortunate because that means Fernando probably knows everything embarrassing that I could say about Mark, plus the bits he’s not willing to share.” Jenson sent a grin Fernando’s way before returning his attention to the rest of the table. “But you don’t all know what happened on Mark and Fernando’s stag do.” Mark dropped his head in his hands as Jenson went on to giving a rendition of Mark trying and failing to pick up the girl in the ‘club’ and then his dare of running around the hotel naked. Alan’s booming laugh seemed to hang in the air as the laughter surrounded Jenson’s words. 

“A few months ago, something happened that only I know about and that is the day Mark decided he was going to make a honest man of Fernando. It starts with a late night phone call and a panicked voice. We were just about to head out to Austin for the American Grand Prix. Mark called and Jessy answered because I was asleep. She thought someone had the wrong number…” Mark blushed rapidly at the memory but Fernando rubbed his shoulders soothingly. “When I eventually got on the phone and worked out it was Mark it took a little bit of time to get him to calm down and explain what was going on. He was worried about what would happen once the season ended. He didn’t want to loose Fernando and then he came to the conclusion he was going to marry him. I told him he was mental or probably drunk but once I had seen him in America I could see this was really bothering him. 

“It was his complete conviction to his decision that was baffling. We went out to talk about it and I tried to make him slow down and think about it but he was completely convinced. There was nothing I could say to make him change his mind. And I guess, looking back, that’s one of the things that lets me know you two will be together forever.” Jenson turned back to Fernando and Mark, his eyes focusing on Mark. “These guys have a love that in impenetrable. It’s really something to strive for and I hope that each and everyone of us in this room gets to be as lucky as they are. Because they have found their soul mate and it’s incredible to see.” Jenson raised his glass. “To skip all of the soppy crap, can we please all raise our glasses to the most genuine couple I have every had the fortune to meet.” Everyone toasted and applauded Jenson as he took his seat. Mark pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. 

“I was looking forwards to the soppy crap.” Mark joked as he pulled back. 

“Give me a few more drinks and you might hear it.” Jenson returned. Mark patted his back with a smile as Alan got to his feet. 

“The first thing I have to say is, Fernando, if you ever need some black mail on Mark I have a wonderful range of embarrassing stories for you so please do not hesitate to call.” Alan began to a snicker of laughter. “Mark, you make us so proud every day. You always push for everything and the reward is so special. Your mother and I are so proud of you and could not be happier with the choices you have made in your life. Fernando has been like a second son to us since you first met and we couldn’t be happier to welcome him to the family. As long as you know you’re a Webber now so you’ve got to brush up on your barbeque skills so when we come out here over summer you can impress us.” Alan smiled and Fernando saluted him. “I think it goes without saying but I couldn’t have hoped for our Mark to end up with anyone other than Fernando. You complete each other and I wish you a lifetime of happiness. You just make sure you treat him well, Mark.” Alan added as a joke before raising his glass and receiving an applaud. Fernando turned to Mark.

“These stories then-” Fernando teased. 

“-No way.” Mark smiled catching Fernando’s lips. 

“Have your father’s number. Could just call him.”

“I’ve got Lorena’s and I’m sure she’d be more than willing to pass on equally as bad trivia on you.” Mark smirked. 

“Touché.” Fernando smiled, his eyes drifting across the table. His fingers suddenly dung into Mark’s leg and Mark winced in pain following Fernando’s gaze. It didn’t take him long to find out what had Fernando gripping to him for dear life. Mark took his hands from his leg and entwined their fingers, wrapping one arm around Fernando’s back. 

“It’s alright, Fernando. It’s fine. Stay calm.” Mark cooed in his ear. Fernando forced the panic off his face, holding tightly to Mark as José got to his feet. Everyone looked up at him, most of them unaware at how against the nuptials he was. José locked his eyes with Fernando’s. “He wouldn’t do anything to upset you. Your mum wouldn’t let him. Remember that.” Mark whispered. Fernando gave a tiny nod and José seemed to take that as his cue to begin. 

“Is an odd thing to see your only son get married.” José started, speaking to everyone with his eyes bolted on Fernando. “Fills you with lots of different emotions. You start to think about the future and how their family will evolve. How they will take your name forwards.” Fernando swallowed; holding Mark tightly and waiting for the sentence that would make him want to shrink under the table. “Fernando can be a stubborn character. He will make his choices and his own decisions. He has chosen his life with Mark. It is interesting to reflect, if you do not mind, on their vows to each other today. These were words spoken from the heart. Neither of them had references. Just each other.” Fernando was increasingly becoming confused and concerned about his father’s point. “It was…” José shook his head slightly, eyes widening a little in shock. “Beautiful.” Fernando blinked; sure he had heard his father wrong. “It was so love felt and genuine… Am trying to say, if Fernando is happy then I am happy. Have only ever wanted the best for you.” José said, looking back at his son. “Is clear from today that Mark brings you great happiness and I would like to take this moment to formally and personally welcome Mark to our family.” José gave Mark a small nod before flicking his eyes back to Fernando and raising his glass. “To Mark and Fernando,” He announced. “Pueden sus años juntos se llenen de la felicidad y el amor que ha demostrado hoy.” Fernando felt his heart swell as a wisp of a smile splashed across his father’s face. Everyone joined in the toast.

“What did the Spanish mean?” Diane asked sweetly as Fernando got up. Fernando pulled his father into a tight embrace as Mark beamed from his seat. 

“He said: May your years together be filled with the happiness and love you showed today.” Mark translated as José pulled Fernando closer. 

“Gracias, Papa.” Fernando muttered. José just smiled at him, patting his shoulder as they moved apart. After Fernando had moved back to Mark, curling into his embrace, Diane turned to Alan. 

“Did you get it?” She asked softly. Alan turned the phone towards her, showing the video of José standing on the other side of the table. 

“Every last word.” Alan glowed. Jenson clapped his hands together. 

“I guess if nobody else has anything to say…?” Jenson paused but no one else stood up. Everyone was satisfied that the three speakers had summed up the emotions of the day. Jenson nodded. “Should we get the real party started then?” He smirked. Everyone headed out of the restaurant, the bill having been settled, as Jenson lead the way to the club just down the road. Christian, Stefano and Andrea were the last to leave, their conversation rudely interrupted as Christian’s phone started ringing. He looked down at the caller ID before checking the time. It was half nine back in England. Excusing himself he hung back and answered. 

“Hello?” He said tentatively. 

“Where are you?” The caller asked. Christian frowned. 

“Where am I?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m at home.” Christian lied, swallowing his nerves. 

“Really?” a sarcastic voice returned. 

“Yes, really. What do you want?” Christian snapped. He didn’t need this right now. 

“If you’re at home tell me why I can see you standing outside a restaurant in Spain.” The caller asked, making Christian’s heart stop. He kept his head level. 

“You must being seeing things.” He pushed. The laughter that was returned was sadistic and sent ice through Christian’s veins. 

“You were just talking to Stefano Domenicali.” The caller confirmed. Christian started frantically looking around. 

“There must be a couple of look-a-likes in Spain, then.”

“Stop lying. I can see you.” The caller spat. Christian continued to search for him. 

“You can’t.”

“Stop looking for me. You won’t find me.”

“What do you want?” Christian sighed tiredly. There was a second of silence on the line. 

“Just tell me where you’re heading next and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“I can’t do that.” 

“Not even for me?” An innocent voice returned. 

“I don’t know what you’re playing at but I'm not helping you.” Christian hissed before hanging up the phone and rushing off after the others. 

This was bad. 

\- - -

José had come out of the club. He needed to get away from the constant headache-inflicting boom of the music. Outside in the cool night he lit up a cigarette, finding solace in the early morning breeze that drifted down the street. He had lost Fernando ages ago in the mess of the club but he knew he was safe. He was with Mark. It was a concept José was still trying to get his head around. No, he still didn’t like it and no, he still wasn’t happy the marriage had gone ahead but there was nothing he could do now. And simply seeing how happy Mark made Fernando had softened him to the idea. When the registrar had asked if anyone knew of any reason they couldn’t get married he was tempted to stand, to ruin their day. But it had happened now. There was nothing he could do to change that fact. He just had to get used to it. 

“Fancy seeing you out here.” José turned to see Alan walking out of the club, twisting a lighter in his hand. José smiled softly. 

“Taking a moment away from the noise.” José explained as Alan lit up a cigarette. 

“Likewise.” The Australian smiled. He held out his hand, taking his first puff of smoke. “We haven’t been formally introduced, I’m Alan.”

“José.” José smiled. It was odd being introduced to a man he already knew. 

“Kids these days.” Alan tutted, rolling his eyes and looking back at the club as a group of girls staggered out of the door horrendously drunk, spilling the pounding music into the street. “They think that’s music?”

“Was much better when I was younger.” José agreed. Alan smiled. 

“Doesn’t that make us sound old.” José just shrugged. “It was a lovely speech.”

“You think so?” José asked. Alan nodded, inhaling from the cigarette again. “Well, could not let you take all of the credit.” He teased. 

“You’re not Ok with this all yet, are you?” Alan asked curiously. José dropped his head slightly in shame. 

“I see now how Mark makes Fernando happy…” José admitted. “Want to be happy for them.”

“You will be.” Alan said reassuringly, clasping José’s shoulder. “Just give yourself some time.”

“Why can Ana just see this then?” José retorted, his annoyance at his own resistance to his son’s happiness pooling inside of him. “Do not want to be pushed out of his life.”

“You won’t be. You’re his dad. You saw how he reacted to your words. He wants you to accept him. He wants you to be proud of him.”

“Am.”

“I know this. And so does he. You’ve just got to make sure you keep reminding him.”

“Have done things I regret now. Cannot take them back.”

“It’s all in the past, José. Both Fernando and Mark will understand. Give yourself time to get used to this. It’s a big change.”

“Diane and you take this fine. Can joke about it.” José protested. Alan sighed. 

“For six months after Mark told us we didn’t speak. We didn’t go to his races. We rejected his calls. We didn’t see him. It takes time, José.”

“But are fine now.” José pointed out. 

“Diane needed him back. Mark didn’t want to see us again; he thought we’d disowned him or something. I sort of forced us back together but here we all are now, like you said, fine with it all. It is a thing that happened in the past. You can’t let that ruin your potential future.” Alan said softly. José nodded, hoping Fernando would understand he just needed time to come to terms with this all. “Besides, when grandkids come into this equation I’m going to need you backing me up to get the little ones into racing.” José smiled at Alan’s statement. 

“Fernando’s kart was supposed to be for Lorena. Some children just do not want.” José added softly. Alan shook his head. 

“Not Fernando and Mark’s kid.”

“You seriously reckon they will adopt?” José asked, a small niggle in the back of his head making him feel sad at the fact that Alan seemed to know more about his son’s intentions than he did. Alan shrugged. 

“I’m not sure. They’ll do something thought; they’re both born parents.”

“And we need a chance to pick up the slack.” José jested.

“Exactly!” Alan laughed. The club door opened again to reveal Ana and Diane, both desperately trying to fan themselves cool.

“There you are!” Ana laughed, moving towards José. “Thought you had run away.”

“Not today.” José said calmly. Ana kissed him happily. 

“We told Mark we were heading home.” Diane said and Alan nodded. 

“Let us pop back and say bye.” Alan said, gesturing to José. Both men discarded of their burnt down cigarettes. 

“We’ll wait out here.” Ana said, with Diane nodding.

“Oh! And Fernando’s pretty out of it. I think he might have lost a bet…” Diane mentioned with a smile. José rolled his eyes and followed Alan back into the loud club. 

\- -

It was much later. It must have been about three in the morning by now. Only Jenson, Mark, Jessica and Fernando remained. Mainly Jessica and Mark trying to prevent Fernando and Jenson running into any trouble. They were in a booth at the back of the room. Jessica had gone off to find some water and left both Fernando and Jenson with Mark. Fernando was easy to control; when he got wasted he just wanted to stay as close to Mark as possible. Jenson on the other hand had to be restrained. The Brit wrapped an arm around Mark’s shoulders and pulled his head close, accidently slapping Fernando in the face whose head was resting on Mark’s shoulder. 

“You are so very very very very lucky, Mark.” Jenson slurred, gaining Fernando’s attention. The Spaniard sat up and nodded rapidly at Jenson’s comment. Mark smiled at Jenson, pulling Fernando closer. 

“Why’s that, mate?” Mark asked. 

“Why’s that, mate?” Fernando repeated in an abysmal attempt to impersonate Mark. 

“You found the one, Mark… The one.” Jenson insisted, gesturing towards Fernando. 

“You mean the one who stupidly thought that accepting your shot challenge was a good idea?” Mark teased. Jenson pouted angrily at him. 

“Shot! Shot! Shot!” Fernando giggled, waving his arm in the air. Mark pulled it down. 

“You’ve done enough shots now.” Mark chastened. Fernando curled into him again. 

“Kay…” Fernando sighed. 

“Mark!” Jenson whined, pulling on the Australian’s sleeve. “Take me seriously!”

“I am, Jense.” Mark nodded. “Perfectly so.”

“You’ve got your soul mate.” Jenson said through a sigh. Mark spotted Jessica making her way towards them. 

“You’ve found yours.” He added to Jenson. Jenson nodded soppily. 

“Want her to know…”

“I’m sure she does.” Jenson shook his head rapidly, sitting up. 

“Need to show her. Don’t want to loose her. Lost too much this year…” Jenson muttered. Mark knew he was referencing his dad. 

“Then show her.” Mark said softly. Jessica was getting closer. Jenson lent close to Mark’s face. 

“How?” He asked in a quiet voice. 

“The same way I did.” Mark smiled before pulling back and kissing Fernando’s forehead. Jessica just about managed to sit down before Jenson threw himself into her embrace, kissing her softly. 

“What was that for?” Jessica asked, love bubbling inside her at Jenson’s gentle caresses. Jenson kissed her nose. 

“Love you…” Through the drunken slur of his voice the genuine statement could be heard. Jessica kissed him again. 

“Love you.” Fernando muttered in Mark’s ear. Mark turned to kiss him before handing him a glass of water. 

“Should we drink these and call it a night?” Mark asked Jessica who nodded. Twenty minutes later the four of them were heading for the exit, Jessica and Jenson leading the way with Fernando pressed into Mark’s back just behind. Fernando was suddenly being pulled away from Mark and Mark grabbed his wrist, making sure to be dragged with him. They were moved through the crowd to a gap on the far side. Mark’s whole body tensed as he saw who had Fernando’s second hand. There was no way this was possible. Mark pulled Fernando sharply from the other guy’s grasp and behind his body. Fernando had sobered just enough to recognise the blonde in front of him.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Seb?” Mark spat as his former teammate stood in front of him looking way too smug. Sebastian folded his arms. 

“Checking out the Spanish night life. Fancy seeing you here.” This had to just be a horrible coincidence. There was no way Sebastian could know the significance of today. They was no possible way. 

“We are just leaving.” Fernando said, pulling on Mark’s arm. 

“That would be a shame.” Sebastian sneered. Fernando wasn’t going to be pulled in by Sebastian’s mind game but Mark took the bait without a second thought. 

“What do you mean?” Mark spat missing Fernando’s sigh behind him. 

“The party has only just begun.” Sebastian smiled, gesturing around him. Fernando pulled on Mark’s arm. 

“Goodbye, Sebastian. Enjoy your night.” Fernando said calmly, pulling Mark away. Sebastian waved after them. 

“You too!” He called loudly, voice washed away slightly in the pounding beat. Once they had gone, he unlocked his phone and read the new notification along with the text from Dasha. He’d been texting her all day. “You too.” He muttered gleefully to himself. 

\- 

“But how the fuck did he find us?” Mark snarled as the four of them walked down the road. Fernando grasped his hand tightly. 

“Does not matter. He does not know. Do not let this ruin the end of our evening.” Fernando said softly, looking up at Mark with pleading eyes. Mark sighed. 

“It’s Seb, Fernando. You remember what he did.”

“Of course I do, but I will not let him ruin our day,” Fernando said firmly. 

“Mark, you know that’s probably his plan. He probably just wants to panic you.” Jenson said. Mark shook his head. 

“Well it worked then.” Mark spat. Fernando pulled him to a stop. 

“Please forget it. We fly tomorrow and then have five days just us. Do not let him taint these days. We can forget, yes? Not worry. How could he possibly have anything?” Fernando said softly, stroking Mark’s face. Mark sighed. 

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course he is.” Jessica smiled, linking her free arm with Mark’s and moving them forwards. Fernando still kept a firm grip on Mark’s hand. “Do you still want a lift to the airport tomorrow morning?” Jessica asked, changing the subject. Fernando kissed Mark’s shoulder supportively and Mark let his shoulders relax. Fernando was right. What was the point in worrying? Sebastian had only seen them in a Spanish club. Why was that strange? Everyone knew they were together now anyway.

He had nothing to worry about.

\- - 

“This sucks.” Mark moaned, waiting for Fernando to come back out of the bathroom. Fernando stuck his head round the door. 

“You are the one who wanted an abstinence week before the wedding.” He smiled. Mark rolled his eyes.

“Tell me again why I thought that would be a good idea?”

“It will. We get to Caribbean and will be the best sex ever.” Fernando said smugly. 

“I must have been asleep when I said that…” Mark mused as Fernando laughed, dipping back into the bathroom. “Or had momentary amnesia when I forgot how fucking hot you are.”

“So sweet.” Fernando smiled from behind the door. Mark sat up.

“Like, body-craving hot… Head-going-to-explode-of-I-don’t-have-you hot!” Mark tried. Fernando’s head returned. 

“Are not having sex tonight, Mark. Will be worth the wait.”

“Please.”

“No.” Fernando laughed sticking the toothbrush in his mouth.

“But I really- You’ve not got a shirt on, have you.” Mark suddenly realised, catching a glimpse of Fernando’s bare collarbone. Fernando blushed a little. 

“No…”

“Fernando!” Mark let himself fall back on the bed, covering his face with his hands. “How am I supposed to resist you when you’re teasing me with you perfectness?” Fernando blushed a deeper red at Mark’s words. Mark suddenly gasped as Fernando straddled his hips. “Ok, mate, this just isn’t fair.” Fernando smiled, moving Mark’s hands away from his face as he lent close to him, pressing soft kisses down Mark’s neck. Mark moaned; forcing his hips to stay planted on the bed. 

“Imagine how it will feel… A whole week of nothing and five days where you can do whatever you like to me…” Fernando purred, his voice sending more blood between Mark’s legs. Mark buried his nose in Fernando’s hair, inhaling his perfect scent. 

“Anything I want?” Mark clarified. Fernando sucked gently on his skin.

“Anything…” There was a moment where Mark let his hands travel down Fernando’s back, teasing the waistband of Fernando’s pyjama bottoms. It was taking everything Fernando had in him to not throw himself on Mark. But he knew if they waited it would be spectacular. A whole week of nothing. There had been little fights over who left the jam out and insignificant things alike because they were both so sexually frustrated. But it would be worth it. Fernando knew it. Fernando knew Mark knew it. They just had to wait a little bit longer. He pressed a gentle kiss on Mark’s lips as he crawled off him. Mark moaned disappointedly, causing Fernando to give a small laugh. Crawling under the covers, Fernando let Mark embrace his body, pulling him close to him. 

“I missed you last night.” Mark muttered, kissing against Fernando’s ear. Fernando shivered pleasantly as Mark’s warm breath tickled across his neck. 

“Missed you more.”

“Hey, Fernando?” Mark whispered a little later after the light had been turned out. 

“Yes, Mark?” Fernando returned. 

“We did it.” Mark grinned, unable to stop it spreading across his face. Fernando rang his fingers around the ring on Mark’s hand to show he understood. “We got married.”

“Good night, Mark Alonso-Webber.” Fernando kissed into Mark’s torso. Mark buzzed with happiness, pulling Fernando closer. “Te amo.”

“Te amo, Fernando Alonso-Webber.” Mark smiled as Fernando snuggled closer to him. “Soy tuyo.”

Fernando and Mark had never felt so in love in their entire life.


	38. Honeymoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Honeymoon lasts not nowadays above a fortnight.”  
> ~Samuel Richardson~

“Mark!” Fernando whined, thrashing his legs across the bed. The binds at his wrist rubbed at his raw skin and Mark considered removing them; Fernando had been squirming so much they had considerably tightened since being put in place. Fernando crashed his body back into the mattress, gasping for air as he ripped his eyes open. He knew Mark had opened the wide French doors to his right; he could see the white chiffon curtains fluttering in the breeze. The breeze he was dying to feel as sweat ran down the back of his legs from the crevice of his knees. “Please…”

“This was your idea, Fernando.” Mark smiled, sipping from the cocktail in his hands. Fernando looked down at him, sat at the end of the bed between his legs. Mark’s eyes met the black pools of Fernando’s irises and he felt the pang of need flood him. He leaned forwards, blowing gently on the tip of Fernando’s erect cock and watching the Spaniard thrash again at his constant teasing. Mark smirked, re-taking his seat as resuming to sip on his cocktail. Fernando panted, trying to reach for Mark or move or turn or do something. His body was begging for release and he felt like he would explode if he didn’t get it soon.

“Por favor, Mark. Te necesito. Te necesito ahora.” Fernando panted, squinting his eyes shut in desperation to calm himself down. It was too much. All Mark would have to do was touch him and he knew it would be all over. Mark smirked; sucking at the straw and making a slurping sound that signified he had finished. Fernando moaned, thrusting into the air. He knew Mark was playing it so he would imagine how it would feel to have Mark doing that to him. And it was working.

“Spanish won’t help you now, Bub.” Mark smiled. He placed the empty glass on the side table before returning to the foot of the bed and running his hands up his husband’s legs. The reaction was instant. Fernando offered his hips up to Mark without hesitation but Mark just pushed him back down onto the bed. “Bloody hell, mate.” Mark chuckled running a soothing hand down Fernando’s side. He hadn’t realised just how much he had wound Fernando up.

“Por favor…” Fernando whimpered, trying to reach for Mark so he could pull him closer, kiss down his neck. The restraints held him firmly in place and he moaned in an irritated manner. Mark just smiled at him, brushing the hair from his face. Holding Fernando’s eye contact, Mark lent forwards and blew gently across the tip of Fernando’s leaking cock. He moaned, thrashing his legs in a desperate attempt to pull Mark closer. Mark grabbed his ankle as it shot upwards towards him. Carefully he un-straddled Fernando’s leg.

“Careful, Fer. Don’t make me tie your feet down too.” Mark said gently, kissing across Fernando’s torso. Fernando balled his hands together so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, shooting hot pain down his limbs.

“Need…”

“You need to calm down, Fernando. Just chill…” Mark smirked. Fernando didn’t sense his tone but took his advice, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. It was such a sudden shock when Mark’s mouth slipped over his cock that he nearly came there and then. But he yelled out instead, forcing himself to hold onto himself and make this last. A week of nothing and an entire journey of teasing and finally, _finally,_ Mark was touching him. Properly. And it had never felt so amazing before. It was like he was being woken up. His skin was on fire, sensitive to simply touch. And the thing that was forcing him so close to the edge at such a simple gesture?

Mark had an ice cube in his mouth.

_Just chill._

“Maah…” Fernando gave up on his voice. Gave up on trying to tell Mark just how good everything was. He let his body engulf the entire feeling. Let the waves of pleasure roll through him pleasantly. Mark’s loose white shirt that barely had any buttons done up was brushing against Fernando’s inner thigh, sparking arousal at the proximity to his balls. And Fernando could feel Mark’s erection. Could feel it pressed against his knee. He unintentionally moaned as the thought of Mark penetrating him flashed in his mind. It had been too long. “Mark… Do not want…” Fernando panted, his eyes screwed shut in concentration. Normally he would have pulled Mark away by his hair, forced him into a kiss as he snuck his hand down Mark’s shorts. But Mark had tied his hands. Fernando was powerless to his attack.

The ice cube had melted on Mark’s tongue and the Australian was now swirling the cool water around Fernando’s length, dragging his tongue over the sensitive parts that made the Spaniard squirm. “Mark!” Fernando linked his ankles behind Mark’s back, forcing the Australian to take all of him. It was too much. Fernando was looing control. Mark’s hand reached forwards and toyed with the spot behind his balls that made him shudder. Fernando wanted to do anything to hold on, but his hips were bucking frantically. Mark pressed him into the mattress, letting him slide out of his mouth leaving Fernando on the tipping point. Fernando didn’t know what was worse; being teased or being played until this point.

“Did you say something, mate?” Mark smiled, slightly breathless. Fernando looked down at him, still feeling his breath pattern across his leaking tip.

“Por favor, Mark, tan cerca... No puedo... Por favor... Demasiado bueno, tan bueno... Joder...” Fernando breathed, his voice little more than pants of breath. Mark crawled up his body, making sure not to brush against him. His shirt tickled across Fernando’s navel making the Spaniard groan in impatience.

“Not like this?” Mark asked, pulling at the collar of the shirt.

“Oomph…” Fernando muttered, his eyes pressed shut into hard lines. Mark frowned.

“Sorry?”

“Off.” Fernando implored. Mark smirked, slipping the material from his shoulders as his eyes raked down the naked expanse of his husband.

“You look so fucking hot…” Mark purred, leaning close to Fernando’s ear. “Tied up and waiting for me. Needy. Desperate…”

“Por favour…” Fernando breathed. Mark chuckled in his ear.

“English?” Fernando internally cursed Mark. So close his brain was frazzled. He didn’t want to be trying to translate when he knew Mark could understand him. He didn’t want to be brought back from this wonderful place, swimming on this feeling.

“Por…” Fernando whimpered.

“Try again.” Mark said softly, rubbing soothingly at his wrists. Fernando took a deep breath.

“P… Please…” Mark pulled gently on the binds at Fernando’s wrist and let them drop. Fernando instantly moved his hands to Mark’s hair, pulling him closer and sucking desperately at his lips, jawline, neck. Anything he could do to give Mark his urgency. His need. He wanted Mark to complete him. He needed Mark to complete him. Fernando screamed out, releasing Mark’s skin as the Australian slid inside him, hitting his prostate on the first thrust. All that teasing open seemed to happen hours ago, but maybe it had only been five minutes. Fernando wasn’t sure anymore. His grip on Mark tightened as the Australian stilled, kissing up his neck. The pressure was building and Fernando needed Mark to move. “Por favor, por favor, Mark! Joder! Por favor!”

“I want to feel you cum.” Mark whispered in Fernando’s ear. One stroke and Fernando convulsed around Mark, tipping the Australian to the edge. He rode out Fernando’s orgasm, elongating it with every deep thrust and caught the end of his to join him, collapsing on top of Fernando and panting hard. The hours of teasing had Mark on the edge too and feeling Fernando’s cum run down his stomach was too much. Too much of a strong connection. A meaning of what they had done. A whole week of nothing and the result had been mind-blowing. “Are you OK?” Mark asked shakily, pushing up on one of his arms to look down at Fernando. Fernando instantly pulled him closer, kissing along his collarbone messily.

“Te amo. Te amo, Mark. Tan bueno. Usted es demasiado bueno para mí. Te quiero. Te amor así mucho.”

“Worth the wait then, eh?” Mark smirked, rolling beside Fernando, wincing slightly as he pulled out. Fernando was automatically back on top of him. Mark pulled the duvet over them.

“Sí. Cada vez.” Fernando smiled, kissing Mark deeply. Mark hummed pleasantly as Fernando released him bottom lip.

“Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.” Mark said patting Fernando’s arse. Fernando curled closer to him.

“No…”

“Get clean and then we can sleep.” Mark kissed into Fernando’s damp forehead. Fernando wrapped his hand round Mark’s spent cock. “Fer-”

“-For you. Return the favour.” Fernando said sweetly, looking up at Mark with big, lust-filled eyes. Mark removed his hand.

“Later. Promise.” Mark said. Fernando looked down at Mark’s waist making the Australian frown. “What?”

“When did you take your shorts off?”

“When I took my shirt off.”

“But I did not see.”

“You had your eyes closed.” Mark smiled, moving Fernando off him. Fernando pouted, sitting up and folding his arms and Mark climbed from under the duvet. “What?” Mark laughed.

“Did not see.”

“That’s not my fault.” Mark smiled, holding his hand out. Fernando continued to pout.

“But I strip for you because you ask me to.”

“Right?”

“Wanted to see…”

“Then I guess we know how we’ll start next time.” Mark smirked pulling Fernando from the bed. “Now shower and clean that pretty little arse.” Mark teased, pushing Fernando into the bathroom. The low sun shone across the room making Fernando’s sun-kissed skin look irresistible. Mark felt his body reacting to the sight as Fernando turned back around.

“Are not coming?” Fernando asked as the shower kicked into life. Mark shook his head.

“Nah, I’m going this way.” And without another word Mark ran out of the open French doors and jumped into the Caribbean sea. Fernando stood gobsmacked for a moment. “You know how warm this is?” Mark sighed satisfied. Fernando turned off the shower and tentatively moved towards the doors. He knew the closest Villa was at least half a mile away but he could still see it, even if at a distance. Mark spat water at him and he retreated. “Are you coming in?”

“Is…” Fernando started but his voice bailed out. He had already started to use the chiffon curtain to cover himself. Mark climbed out and moved towards him, taking his hand.

“It’s Ok. No one can see us. It’s warm.” Mark smiled, moving Fernando towards the edge of the outside platform. Fernando was still dubious.

“Could just shower…”

“Or swim under the sunset?” Mark said softly. “How many opportunities do you get to do that?”

“I just-”

“-Trust me, Fernando. It’s fine.” Mark caught Fernando’s face in his hands before pressing a soft kiss on his forehead and linking their fingers, moving his hands away from himself. Fernando felt completely exposed but he trusted Mark. And looking deep into his eyes they launched themselves into the crystal water only darkened by the retreating light. Mark wrapped his arms tightly round Fernando’s waist, holding him close as they floated around their private lagoon, watching the sun disappear behind the horizon. “When we both retire I’m bringing you back here.” Mark muttered softly into Fernando’s damp hair. Fernando rested his head in the crevice of Mark’s neck. “This is perfect.”

“Can come back in summer if you want.” Fernando smiled but Mark shook his head.

“Next time I bring you back here we’re never going anywhere again.”

“Ok.” Fernando sighed contently. Mark looked at him.

“Ok?”

“Is perfect. Are right.”

“You’d give up the fast life to settle down out here?” Mark was slightly shocked but when Fernando turned in his arms and wrapped himself tightly around Mark’s body there was no room for confusion.

“Would give up everything for you.” Fernando muttered before capturing Mark’s lips delicately with his own.

Later on that evening, after they had sat out in the hot tub with a glass of champagne, relieving moments of their life together and ending up with cleaning each other in the bath until the water turned cold, they were wrapped in each other’s arms, snuggled close under the duvet.

And there was no place either of them would have rather been.

\- - - - -

“Fernando?” Mark called out to the apparently empty villa. He placed his iPod on the table as he crossed through onto the dock. He had only gone for a quick jog down the beach. Fernando had looked so peaceful asleep he didn’t have the heart to wake him. And it was early. Mark wasn’t sure how thrilled Fernando would be at the concept of going for a run at six in the morning. But the frown was set on his face because the Spaniard was nowhere to be seen. “Fer?” As if on cue his phone started ringing. Sighing in relief at reading Fernando’s name on his screen Mark pressed the small device to his ear. “I thought we said no phones until we got home.”

“You disappeared.” Fernando said softly. Mark sat back in one of the chairs.

“I left you a note.” He justified.

“Would have come with you.”

“Nah, you need your beauty sleep.”

“Not as much as you, old man.” Fernando teased. Mark scoffed dramatically, as if he had been punched in the chest.

“Ouch, Fernando.”

“Suppose this is why you need to run this morning.” Fernando shrugged. Mark smiled.

“Now you’re just being mean.”

“Will you hurry and get your arse in the shower?” Fernando asked impatiently. Mark sat forwards looking back into the villa.

“Maybe if you let me know where you are.”

“Am fine.”

“And you have the audacity to moan at me for disappearing.” Mark got up and crossed into the villa, the morning sun low behind him.

“Shower. Will be home shortly.” Fernando said in a scheming voice. It slightly unnerved Mark.

“Home? What do you-?” But Mark’s sentence was cut short by the line being disconnected. He looked down at the device in his hands for a moment completely confused. Just as he decided to call Fernando back a text flashed up.

_Will be home in five minutes. Stop standing around and get in the shower, smelly ;) xxxxxx_

Mark scoffed, thinking how Fernando knew him too well, and headed for the bathroom. Unknown to Mark, Fernando was hiding in the cupboard just to his left waiting for him to disappear into the bathroom. He had five minutes to finish setting up Mark’s surprise. He was just glad Mark hadn’t gone through to their bedroom.

-

When Mark finally emerged from the bathroom he crossed out by the front door. He wanted to make sure Fernando actually was home. But his shoes were by the door, right where they should be. Mark nodded to himself, securing his towel around his waist as he padded his way towards the bedroom. He was guessing Fernando was in there seeing as the Spaniard was nowhere else to be seen. And he wasn’t wrong. Mark stood in the doorway, mouth slightly agape as he took in the scene in front of him.

The curtains had been closed, blocking the morning sun from the room. It created a dim haze of light that was enhanced by the selection of candles all over the bedside tables. The bed had been made; duvet folded back on itself just like it was when they arrived but Fernando took up Mark’s attention. He was sat in the middle of the bed, crossed legged and looking adorably innocent. He had a light blue shirt on with only the bottom two buttons done up, revealing the expanse of his tanned, smooth chest. The white shorts rested at the top of his knees, framing more smooth skin that begged to be kissed. Mark stood at the foot of the bed, observing him with a soft smile.

“You weren’t out, were you.” Mark realised. Fernando shrugged softly.

“Wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, that worked.” Mark cooed, pulling on Fernando’s ankles until he was sat at the end of the bed. Fernando placed his feet firmly on the ground as Mark cupped his face. “Can I come home to this every day?”

“If you are lucky.” Fernando smiled. Mark looked deeply into his eyes.

“Do you understand just how much I love you?” Mark asked. Fernando blushed under his gaze.

“Not as much as I love you.” Fernando returned, closing his eyes as Mark kissed down the side of his face.

“Debatable.” Mark muttered, brushing his hand over Fernando’s torso. Fernando hummed happily as he pulled Mark’s hips towards him.

“Not at all. Is fact.”

“I just don’t believe you, Bub. Sorry.” Mark smiled, crouching in front of Fernando. Fernando looked down at him as Mark kissed across his knees.

“Nos dejó digamos que nos amamos unos a otros la misma cantidad.” Fernando muttered, pulling Mark back up. Mark smiled at him.

“I suppose I can agree with that.” Fernando smiled as he got to his feet, running his hands across Mark’s bare chest. The towel did nothing to cover up how Fernando was making him feel. Fernando smirked at his immediate effects on the Australian.

“How was your run?” Fernando asked as Mark pulled his shirt from its tucked position in his shorts. Mark just shrugged, focusing on the few buttons that were done up. “Would have come with you.”

“Then how would you have set this up?” Mark said softly, cupping Fernando’s face as he gestured to the room. Fernando shivered pleasantly as the now opened edges of his shirt tickled against his side. Fernando took hold of Mark’s towel.

“Have my ways.” Fernando smiled gently. Mark raised an eyebrow at him.

“Really?” He queried. Fernando just nodded, turning them so the backs of Mark’s knees were pressed against the end of the bed. “Well, maybe someday you’ll have to show me.” Mark dipped his head to kiss Fernando but was instead pushed back onto the bed. His towel unravelled from his hips, leaving him partially exposed. Mark opened his mouth with a small frown but Fernando was already crawling on top of him, using the edges of his shirt to drag feather-light touches across Mark’s sensitive skin. Mark dropped his head back as Fernando straddled his hips.

“What do you think am doing now?” Fernando asked innocently, running his hands down Mark’s side and ridding the Australian of any cover that had been remaining from the towel. Mark twisted his fingers into Fernando’s hair.

“Right now you’re being better than perfect, mate.” Mark muttered in a low voice, eyes dark with lust. He pulled Fernando’s face to his, catching the Spaniard in a gently kiss. Or one that was meant to be gentle. Just as Mark sucked lightly on Fernando’s bottom lip he felt a hand wrap round his throbbing errection. He gasped, and Fernando plunged his tongue into his mouth, setting a steady rhythm with his hand. Mark moaned appreciatively into Fernando’s mouth, desperately roaming his husband’s mouth. Fernando broke them apart, looking deep into Mark’s eyes as the Australian pushed at his material covered back, closing the gap between them. As soon as their skin rubbed together Fernando released Mark’s cock. He placed a chaste kiss on Mark’s nose before getting off him. Mark lay, paralytic from the sudden pleasurable attack, panting slightly. 

“Bloody tease…” Mark sighed, smiling at the ceiling. He wasn’t ready to feel Fernando kissing up his leg. He hummed pleasantly to the intimacy of Fernando’s movements, reaching forwards to try and bring the Spaniard closer to him. But when Fernando suddenly took Mark deeply into his mouth, the Australian sat bolt upright, whining with the pleasure as his hands sunk into Fernando’s hair. Fernando smiled, releasing him as his stood up. A soft tap on Mark’s shoulder sent the Australian sprawling back on the bed. “Fucking hell, Fer…”

“You trust me?” Fernando asked softly, placing some things on the bed beside Mark’s him. Mark could have easily looked, but Fernando’s question paired with the deep eye contact kept him looking into Fernando’s swollen pupils.

“With my life.” Mark smiled. Fernando leant forwards, kissing Mark softly. Mark hummed satisfyingly, wrapping his arms around Fernando’s neck and bringing him closer. The gentle pressure of Fernando’s lips had him melting into the mattress. So when Fernando moved away again, Mark was putty in his hands. Fernando straddled his waist, holding the black silk blindfold taunt in his hands. Mark swallowed nervously.

“Trust me?” Fernando repeated. He didn’t want to do anything Mark wasn’t comfortable with. But it was something Mark mentioned wanting to try. And it all started with the blindfold. Mark swallowed dryly again. As far as fantasies went this was the only one he had trusted Fernando with so far. And it wasn’t that he didn’t trust Fernando explicitly, it was the fact that he was nervous. Because most of his fantasies involved him mentally and physically handing himself completely over to Fernando. And letting go of control was something he wasn’t very good at. “We start slowly. Just the blindfold.” Fernando said, pressing a gently kiss to Mark’s lips. Mark’s hands easily found Fernando’s hips.  

“I trust you, Fernando.” Mark smiled softly, tucking his hand behind Fernando’s neck to cradle his head. Fernando didn’t resist when Mark brought him down for a kiss. Mark wrapped his arms around Fernando’s back, holding him close.

“If you want-”

“-I know, Fer.” Mark beamed, brushing his hands through Fernando’s hair. Fernando still looked deeply into his eyes.

“Want you to be happy, Mark.”

“I couldn’t be anything else with you,” Mark smiled softly. “I trust you.” Mark stole one last kiss before he let Fernando sit up again. The last thing he saw before he was thrown into darkness was Fernando’s beautiful smile. And Mark let that image resound through his head as he felt Fernando moving down his body. He knitted their hands together as soon as he could, physically attaching himself to Fernando so he knew he wouldn’t disappear. He didn’t think Fernando would disappear on him but the physical attachment made it that much easier to let go, to let Fernando completely have control.

“Si se pone mucho demasiado acaba de dime. Sólo dime y nos detenemos.” Fernando muttered, kissing across Mark’s torso. Mark just nodded, holding Fernando’s hand tightly. The gentle pressure across his skin was unpredictable with the blindfold. It kept catching Mark unaware, startling his skin and tingling his nerves pleasantly. It was insane just how quickly he could feel the pre-cum leaking from his tip. Mark bit on his lower lip, determinedly trying to hold back a moan. But as Fernando slipped Mark back into his mouth there was noting he could do. His chewed lip felt from his teeth as his head felt back and he surrendered to the pleasure.

But Fernando wasn’t doing anything for long. Almost as soon as he had started sucking on Mark’s errection, making the Australian squirm as he hollowed his cheeks, he let the hard member slip from between his teeth. Mark would have stopped to query what Fernando was up to but the Spaniard tucked his arms under Mark’s knees and pushed him back onto the bed more. Fernando’s light caresses on the back of Mark’s thigh had the Australian rutting into the air. Mark would have been embarrassed any other time. But removing his sense of sight he had let his mind go, not caring what he looked like just determined to get what he wanted. _Needed._ Fernando placed a soft kiss on Mark’s arse cheek before running his fingers close to his entrance. Mark froze, forcing his eyes to stay shut.

“Listo?” Fernando whispered. Mark looked so beautiful laid out in front of him. Begging for him to pass the point they had only ever talked about before. With a deep breath Mark nodded, letting Fernando’s hand slide from his. He dug his hands into the sheets, feeling the apprehension crawl all over him. “Será más fácil si te relajas...” Fernando smiled gently, still whispering. He wanted this to be perfect for Mark. Perfect like it had been for him the first time. Though Fernando knew he had been slightly intoxicated the first time Mark and he had sex. The alcohol calmed him, not clouding his judgement but making him relax. And that’s what Mark really needed to do right now.

Fernando placed a lube-covered finger at Mark’s entrance, simply tracing the ring of muscle he was due to breach. He took Mark’s hand again, rubbing softly with his thumb. The gently movement was so ‘Fernando’ Mark couldn’t help but breath deeply. He tried not to think about what was coming next and focused his thoughts on the man creating so much pleasure for him. And Fernando didn’t fail to notice this. He observed Mark, waiting until he seemed at his calmest. Without saying anything more, he pushed Mark’s thighs apart a little more and pushed him finger inside him.

The sounds Mark made were electrifying, sending blood pulsing to Fernando’s already hard cock.

Mark had never felt something so good before in his life. To actually have Fernando inside him was so intimate and beautiful he couldn’t help but cry out, his hands dragging across the white sheets in a desperate attempt to hold onto the feeling. With his finger still buried inside him, Fernando kissed gently at the back of Mark’s leg. Only when Mark started whining and trying to push Fernando to do more did he move his finger. Because then he knew Mark was comfortable.

It didn’t take Mark long to be begging for more, once hand buried deep into Fernando’s hair as he made half-arsed attempts to pull Fernando up for a kiss. But Fernando didn’t move, didn’t break his rhythm. He was remaining in control and Mark had no complaints. When Fernando’s second finger was added Mark nearly came on the spot. Unintentional or not, Fernando had breezed gently across his prostate and Mark had never felt pleasure quite like it. Once the third was added, Mark was rutting against Fernando’s hand, trying his hardest to get Fernando to go deeper, gripping tightly to his shoulders. But Fernando kept things shallow, always retaining control even if for five minutes Mark felt like he was calling the shots.

Fernando kissed across Mark’s face, occasionally accepting the messy returns from Mark’s lips as the Australian panted hard, as he removed his fingers. A cool dribble of lube across his entrance had Mark panging for that feeling of being filled by Fernando to return. Fernando lay on top of him, running his errection over Mark’s entrance to let Mark know what was coming next. Mark gripped across his back, pulling him closer as he wrapped his legs around Fernando’s waist. Fernando placed a gentle kiss on his lips as he disconnected Mark’s ankles, letting them drop back down onto the mattress. Mark breathed deeply, trying to push himself closer to Fernando and close the gap of air that was between them.

“¿Confías en mí?” Fernando muttered against the shell of Mark’s ear. Mark kissed at his neck as he felt Fernando lining himself up.

“Siempre.” Mark breathed. As Fernando slid slowly into him Mark felt his hands claw down Fernando’s back. Maybe he was leaving marks, maybe he was cutting into the Spaniard’s skin but right now none of that mattered. Mark forced his feet into the bed, pushing his hips shamelessly up to let Fernando slide deeper. When Fernando was as deep as he could go he stilled. Mark arched his back, pulling at Fernando’s neck to try and get him closer. But Fernando needed a moment. He was right on the edge of his climax. He never knew that being inside someone could feel just as good as being filled. He could feel every flutter of movement in Mark’s body. Every twitch of his hips, every breathy moan, every spasm of his muscles. Already feeling winded, Fernando looked up into Mark’s face. A shaky hand reached forwards, pulling the blindfold from Mark’s eyes. Fernando needed to see him, needed to feel every part of him. Mark’s eyes locked on Fernando’s and his desperation to get Fernando closer increased.

“Por favor…” Mark muttered, rubbing his nose against Fernando. Fernando crashed his lips onto Mark’s as he began thrusting deeply. The use of his own language from Mark at this high point of pressure was too much. He felt like Mark and he were one. Programmed to only ever do this for their entire life. Mark was moaning and squirming below him, their kisses becoming messy and disorganised. Fernando couldn’t help but stare down at the perfection below him. He could have never asked for anything more. Mark couldn’t seem to decide what to do with his hands. They kept sliding from Fernando’s back to claw into the sheets but then returned to his back, pushing him closer. Mark’s discoordination would have been funny at any other time, but now it was endearing, empowering for Fernando to see how easily he could undo Mark.

Fernando kissed desperately at Mark’s neck as he felt his orgasm build. He was thrusting deep enough to rub against Mark’s prostate each time, eliciting beautiful moans and pleas from the man beneath him. Each one sending more pleasure to Fernando’s cock as Mark’s muscles tighten around him. Fernando kissed his forehead, stalling his movements momentarily to get Mark to look back at him. Mark was panting hard, his fingers digging bruises into Fernando’s hips.

“Te amo, Fernando. Te…. Te amo…” Mark breathed, cupping Fernando’s face in his hands. Fernando kissed him deeply, recommencing his thrusting as he wrapped his hand around Mark’s throbbing member. “Fuuh….” Mark whined, his voice stopped by Fernando’s kiss. He moaned loudly and deeply into Fernando’s mouth, his heels sliding across the bed as he tried to take everything at once. Fernando’s thrusts were moving in opposition to his hand and Mark could have never fully comprehended this feeling. It was too much. Mark tried desperately to pull Fernando closer as he felt himself breach his tipping point. “Fernando, I-”

Fernando elongated Mark’s orgasm as his hit at the end of the Australian’s. He continued to thrust deeply into Mark as he tensed around him, spilling warm liquid across both of their stomach. He was still hitting Mark’s prostate every time, causing the Australian to scream and press more bruises into his skin. Fernando didn’t care. He thrust deep inside Mark and stilled as his own wave of pleasure rolled through him, curling his toes and arching his back. He couldn’t help but fall heavily on top of Mark as it ended, panting hard and simply just trying to comprehend what had just happened. Mark soothingly ran his hands through Fernando’s hair, curling the Spaniard around his spent body. Fernando hummed happily and Mark smiled, letting his head fall back against the pillows.

“Te amo, Mark… Te amo para siempre…” Fernando breathed. They laid together for a moment, just catching each other’s breath and falling back to each other. Mark winced when Fernando finally pulled out of him, but instantly was satisfied again as Fernando began to run a warm flannel across his stomach. Mark’s eyes greedily raked the expanse of his naked husband, feeling smug that it was all for his eyes only. Fernando blushed slightly as he caught Mark’s eyes on him. “What?”

“You…” Mark sighed, pulling Fernando back on top of him. “You’re just so perfect.”

“Am not…” Fernando smiled coyly. Mark kissed his forehead.

“You are.” Mark smiled; rolling them over so Fernando was below him. He kissed chastely down his neck. “And you’re extremely fucking hot, mate.”

“Likewise.” Fernando hummed. Mark grinned at him.

“Oh really?” Mark teased. Fernando opened his eyes, gleaming up at the man he would do anything for. He ran his hands down Mark’s back until they were resting against his arse.

“Really really…” Fernando exhaled.

Reluctantly, they both pulled on a pair of shorts so they could sit out on the decking in the morning sun wrapped in each other’s arms. They were both completely content in each other’s company, loving the fact of no distractions and just being able to be them.

“So what do you want to do today?” Mark asked, kissing Fernando’s temple. Fernando snuggled closer to him, feeling the sun warm his back.

“Nothing.”

“You, Fernando Alonso, want to spend the day doing nothing?” Mark asked, slightly shocked. Fernando nodded.

“We can prove just how sexy you are.” He flirted. Mark smiled, kissing him softly.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

\- -

“So you’re making this a competition now?” Mark smiled as the waiter took away their empty plates. Fernando smiled across the table at him.

“Was it not always a competition?” Fernando returned smugly.

“No. This was about me making you feeling extremely good, and vice versa.” Mark said softly. Fernando ran his foot up the back of Mark’s leg.

“And now?” Fernando purred, taking a sip from his wine. An ordinary sip to anyone else, but now – to Mark – there was something extremely provocative about the way Fernando was drinking his wine.

“You just made this a competition.” Mark said, forcing his voice to stay level as he emulated Fernando’s sip of wine. Fernando beamed across the table at him.

“Good.” At that moment the waiter brought over their deserts and Mark internally cursed Fernando for his foul play.

“How is this fair, mate?” Mark whined in a quiet voice as soon as the waiter had disappeared. Fernando just smiled triumphantly and he picked up his spoon.

“Never said I was playing fair.” Fernando grinned. Mark’s eyes followed his spoon as it broke into the delicate chocolate cake, scooping up some whipped cream. Fernando pushed the spoon into his mouth, slowly dragging it out and humming quietly in pleasure. Mark couldn’t take his eyes off him. Fernando opened his eyes, giving him a point-full, lust-filled look.

“You’re evil…” Mark muttered forcing his eyes to drop to his own desert. Fernando’s gently chuckle drifted across the table.

“You like this last time, no?” Fernando smiled. Mark looked up to see Fernando with a smudge of cream on his upper lip. Again. Mark groaned internally. But it suddenly dawned on him he didn’t have to not react to Fernando’s sexy allure. Fernando was his. All his. With a cheeky smile, Mark moved his chair slightly closer to Fernando.

“You’ve got something, mate…” Mark purred in his ear. To anyone else, it would have looked like Mark was whispering in Fernando’s ear. But Mark lent forwards and sucked gently on Fernando’s top lip, removing the sweet cream off his face. Fernando never thought that would have backfired but it had. He was rendered motionless by Mark’s actions. Mark laughed at his obviously aroused state as he returned to his desert. “Game on, Fernando.” Mark smiled, looking at his own food. Fernando wasn’t one to be deterred so easily. He dipped his finger in his cream to gain a small blob on the end of his digit.

“Yes, game on.” Fernando smiled, waiting for Mark to look up at him before he sucked the cream from his finger.

This was going to be a fun night.

\- -

It was their last night before returning back to civilisation and they were exploiting it to the max. The competition that had started in the restaurant escaladed to a competition about how many times they could do it in one night. Neither of them was complaining as they devoured each other’s bodies, forcing the other to reach their orgasm first. They had tried so many different ways all holiday Fernando had lost count. Right now Mark had him pushed against the wall, hands held high above his head as Mark thrust in and out of him, making his legs shake at the pressure of remaining standing. Fernando liked it like this; where he was refrained from seeking his own pleasure. Merely becoming a counter part to please Mark. Mark enjoyed teasing Fernando to the brink and then stopping, letting the Spaniard wither and beg for him to go on.

“Mark…” Fernando moaned, letting his head fall back against Mark’s shoulder. Mark could feel Fernando’s tension. Feel how close to the edge he was. So he let Fernando’s arms go, wrapping this own securely around his waist instead.

“Ok.” Mark panted, sucking on Fernando’s neck. Fernando pinned, arching his back to allow Mark more of him. Mark looked deep into Fernando’s eyes, trying to work him out. “You can-”

“-Do not…. Want…” Fernando breathed, pushing his palms into the wall to force Mark deeper. Mark nipped at the back of Fernando’s neck as he stalled, slowing his motions down until he had stopped, deep inside Fernando. The pressure built to an elusive level that had them both crying for more. “Mark!” Mark had slid his hand down Fernando’s sweat-damp side and cupped his balls, feeling the tension of released beat powerfully strong. Mark knew it really wouldn’t take very much to have Fernando cuming against the wall. That would be an interesting thing to try and explain upon check out…

“Come for me, Fernando…” Mark whispered, kissing down Fernando’s jaw. Fernando was resisting everything, trying his hardest to hold onto his orgasm and not let it slip through his fingers. But it was becoming harder and Fernando was starting to feel light headed.

“I…”

“Go together…” Mark grunted, shifting slightly and sending a spark of pleasure flashing through them both. Fernando couldn’t find it in him to let go.

“Help…” He panted, bracing himself against the wall. Mark smiled, kissing softly at Fernando’s neck. With one deep thrust he sent himself over the edge, pulling on Fernando’s errection and moving him off the wall. Fernando screamed in ecstasy as he came across his stomach and Mark came within him. Mark pulled out swiftly, leading Fernando over to the bed and lying him down. He held Fernando’s eye contact as he kissed across Fernando’s stomach, cleaning away his cum. “Joder…” Fernando muttered, his hands grasping handfuls of hair as he let Mark lick him clean. He moaned appreciatively as Mark brought him into a kiss. He could taste himself on Mark’s tongue and it was one of the most perfect things.

“I think seven times is a good record.” Mark laughed breathily. Fernando curled around his body as Mark threw the covers over him. “It gives us a bench mark for next time you eat cake.”

“Do not blame the cake…” Fernando sighed, breathing Mark in and loving how his musky scent was tainted by the aurora of arousal. “You are amazing…”

“Thanks.” Mark grinned smugly. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Fernando hit him weakly. “Hey!”

“I will go and get cake.” Fernando threated lightly. Mark moved so he was covering Fernando’s body.

“I don’t think I could take it if you did that.” Mark grinned, kissing Fernando’s nose. Fernando placed a hand on Mark’s cheek.

“I love you, Mark.” He muttered happily. Mark placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Te amo, Fernando. More than you’ll ever know.” Mark sighed. After another deep passionate kiss Mark scooped Fernando into his arms, cradling him against his body. “Come on, sleep. Big day tomorrow.” Mark said, turning out the bedside lamp. Fernando gave him a small frown.

“Big day?”

“Yeah, big day. First day of the rest of our lives.” Mark sighed contently. Fernando pulled him closer.

“As a married couple,” Fernando beamed. Mark couldn’t help but emulate.

“Exactly. I won’t have you in a grumpy mood, Mr Alonso-Webber.” Mark smiled, kissing the top of Fernando’s head.

“Could never be in a grumpy mood with you around, Mark Alonso-Webber.” Fernando hummed, linking Mark and his hands together.

“Not now I know you like that thing so much…” Mark teased.

“Do not push me. Will go and get cake.”

“Alright. That can be _your_ secret trick.” Mark grinned. They were silent for a while, Mark’s words simply echoing around in Fernando’s head.

 _First day of the rest of our lives_.

“Love you.” Fernando smiled, yawning into Mark’s chest. Mark could think of no better way to sum up how he felt with Fernando in his arms.

\- - - - -

Fernando left the cupboard first, heading straight over to the refreshments table and pouring out a glass of water. From the other side of the room Kimi smirked at his new teammate. Maybe it wasn’t to everyone else but Kimi found it extremely obvious to know where his teammate had disappeared. Especially considering he had his shirt poking out the front of his flies. Kimi chuckled, excusing himself from the sponsor’s conversation he was – sort of – part of and headed across the room to Fernando. He was beaten, however, by the sudden arrival of Mark. Kimi grinned wider, deciding to take a longer route around the function hall to give them a little bit of time.

“Seriously, I thought you’d be bored of that after five straight days.” Mark smiled, wrapping his arms around Fernando’s waist as the Spaniard stood facing the table. Fernando turned in his arms.

“Will never get bored of that.” Fernando grinned. Mark shrugged.

“I suppose that’s something you could say Kimi hasn’t got today.” Fernando hit his arm, knocking Mark back slightly. “Woah, come here…” Mark muttered, forcing the smile off his face as he pulled Fernando’s shirt free of his jeans. When Mark looked back to his husband his face was the same colour of his shirt. “That was close.” Mark teased, dragging his fingers across the streak on Fernando’s cheek. It only enhanced the red more. “Hey, it’s fine, no one saw.” Mark smiled. Fernando looked around the room; trying not to think about the almost embarrassing situation he was in.

“So what do you think of the new car?” Fernando asked, pointing at it across the room. Mark smiled trying to hold back his laughter. It didn’t last long. “Stop it.” Fernando hit him in jest, again.

“Sorry, but it does look like someone has just stood on the front of it and squashed it, mate.” Mark chuckled. Fernando shot him an unimpressed look.

“Looks better than the others we have seen.” Fernando justified. Mark nodded, pulling him closer.

“True. At least you’re not racing with a penis on your car.” Mark joked.

“I think I prefer the hoover nose.” Kimi said, holding his beer casually by his side. Mark and Fernando turned to him. “Is better looking, I think.”

“Well, Lotus has that prong thing.” Mark shrugged, holding onto Fernando tightly. Kimi took a sip of his beer.

“So how was your… Holiday?” Kimi asked, raising his eyebrow knowingly. Fernando shrunk into Mark.

“It was good, thanks, Kimi. Nice to get away for a while.” Mark answered.

“Where did you go?” Kimi added, genuinely curious.

“Caribbean.”

“Very nice.” Kimi nodded. He took another sip of his beer. “Romantic.”

“I guess.” Mark shrugged.

“Not like the cleaning cupboard.” Kimi smiled, patting Mark’s shoulder before disappearing back into the crowd. Fernando turned to Mark.

“Don’t panic. It’s Kimi. He won’t say anything. He’ll just want us to know he knows… And he just wants to know.” Mark said calmly, pressing a soft kiss on Fernando’s cheek. Fernando shook his head, moving from Mark’s hold.

“Mark, Kimi is good friends with Sebastian.” Fernando breathed. Mark shook his head.

“It will be fine, Fernando. Kimi’s not looking to do anything to us.” Mark said softly. But if he was honest, that was something he hadn’t considered.

Kimi _was_ very good friends with Sebastian. But that wouldn’t be a problem…

Right?

\- - - -

Day two of testing had been shit. The car wasn’t working. The engine wasn’t working. The Energy Recovery System wasn’t working. The car couldn’t go three fucking laps without stopping. This wasn’t good. This was supposed to be the year he thrashed Fernando, made him feel so small and insignificant. Hopefully even pushed him into retirement. But how the hell was he supposed to do that when his car wasn’t working? None of that mattered right now. There was noting more he could do in Jerez. His testing days in Spain were done. He was handing over to Daniel tomorrow and then he had to wait until Bahrain. He just hoped they could improve the fucking car. What was the point in flying out to Bahrain to not be able to test? No, he wouldn’t do that.

He had just seen Fernando arrive at the track, probably going over the data with Ferrari that Kimi had gained over the first two days. But he was alone. No Mark. And that was perfect for his next part of his plan.

So Antti and he were up in the commentary box. They were definitely not supposed to be there but they were. Sebastian moved over to the box full of paper, smiling as Antti opened the window. This was perfect. It would completely unnerve Fernando ready for the beginning of his 2014 season. Antti frowned, standing by the window.

“Are you sure about this?” Antti asked for what must have been the twentieth time. Sebastian rolled his eyes. He missed Heikki and his unconditional faith in his plans.

“It’s fine. This will work. There is no way it can be traced back to us.” There was a short pause.

“But…”

“I’m not reconsidering. This is happening. Help me or don’t.” Sebastian shot. Antti sighed.

“Alright… Give it here.” Sebastian nodded, handing the box over to Antti. He took the satchel full of similar papers and headed for the door.

“Wait five minutes. Then go.” Sebastian instructed again. Antti simply nodded.

“Lets just do it, alright.” Antti snapped. Sebastian knew he was uncomfortable, but this had to happen.

It was the only way he could get back.

Fine minutes later, when he was leaving the pit lane after executing his half of the plan, he smiled, looking up at the sky as the papers fluttered down, ready for everyone to see in the morning.


	39. Testing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Once the races begin it’s more difficult and there is never that much time for testing”   
> ~Valentino Rossi~

“Morning, Sleepy head.” Fernando smiled, walking from the hotel to the track. It was only about a ten-minute journey on foot and it gave him the opportunity to call Mark. Mark hadn’t come with him to testing. He’d said there was enough speculation about them in the press for one month. He had stayed at home with the dogs. Fernando understood but he still missed having Mark’s arms around him at night. It was like their pre-wedding night all over again. Fernando just kept reminding himself it was only for three nights. Three nights and he would be back.

Technically two nights now.

“Mmuhmph…” Mark muttered down the phone. Fernando couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Is not this early.” Fernando smiled. He heard the bed sheets moving down the phone.

“You’ve probably been up a couple of hours doing some training…” Mark yawned. Fernando smiled, dropping his sunglasses over his face and checking the road before crossing it.

“Normally you would be up by now.” Fernando mused, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder as he sighed a couple of autographs.

“I’m taking advantage of not being kicked as you get up, mate.”

“Do not kick you.” Fernando said, climbing over a fence to get off the main street and take a shortcut across a field.

“Fernando.” Mark said in a tone that made Fernando know he was right. Fernando rolled his eyes.

“Unintentionally.” Fernando sighed.

“Well it was nice to have no more bruises this morning.” Mark chuckled.

“What are you doing today?” Fernando asked. The sun was weakly fighting against the clouds and brushing against his face.

“Sorting out shit around here.”

“Huh?”

“The rest of my boxes turned up.” Mark explained. Fernando buzzed with happiness.

“So is now official?”

“Sort of became official when we said ‘I do’ mate.” Mark joked. Fernando’s face dropped into a not impressed expression.

“Am trying to be sentimental.” Fernando sighed, picking up his walk again. Mark chuckled lightly down the phone.

“I know, Fernando.”

“Do not throw away the boxes.” Fernando requested lightly.

“Why?”

“Just put them in the gym or something until I get home.”

“Can I at least flatten them?”

“Yes, just do not throw them away.”

“Any particular reason?”

“I will sort them.”

“So no reason then?”

“Not that I will tell you yet.” Fernando smiled.

“Do you want to keep the delivery note as well?” Mark asked sarcastically. It backfired.

“Yes. Thank you.” There was a pause.

“I was joking, Bub.”

“And am being serious.” Fernando grinned, walking through the gate to the next field. Mark sighed on the other end of the line.

“Alright.” There was a pause where Fernando just listened to Mark’s breathing, feeling the tremors of pleasure ripple through him. It hadn’t been long since their honeymoon and the memories were still fresh in Fernando’s mind. He wanted more of Mark leaving everything to him. He wanted a situation where Mark said nothing and let him completely call the shots. He wanted Mark to feel so completely loved and cared for the same way Mark made him feel when Fernando let go. But Fernando knew they needed some time to get there; Mark much preferred to be in control in situations like that, but their honeymoon gave them an opportunity to explore something new, something Fernando definitely wanted more of.

“Miss you…” Fernando said softly, hooking his free thumb into his bag strap. Mark sighed lightly, rolling through the sheets. If Fernando closed his eyes, he could imagine it.

“It’s been not even two days yet, mate.” Mark tried to joke, but it was light, no real conviction behind it. Fernando’s heart swelled at the fact Mark was missing him too.

“Wish you would have come. Is a lovely walk to the track.” Fernando sighed.

“You know why I didn’t. Besides, now I can have the house perfect for you when you get back.”

“Such a brilliant housewife I have got myself.” Fernando teased.

“Hey, watch it, buddy. Or I won’t do your ironing this week.” Mark said firmly, but it just had Fernando laughing harder. Mark’s chuckle broke across the distance between them and Fernando wished harder than ever that Mark was with him.

“Are you still in bed?”

“Yes, mate. Contemplating if Shadow will manage to accomplish breakfast in bed or if it’s better if I go.” Mark said, his voice changing as he stretched. Fernando’s feet stalled momentarily as the sound. He shook his head, clearing it, as he moved forwards again.

“This is best you go. Is possibly he will make a mess.” Fernando smiled.

“Nah, well Simba would be observing.”

“I see.” Fernando beamed.

“But I get the feeling that’s not why you were asking me.” Fernando openly shivered at Mark’s change in tone.

“Sorry?” Fernando tried innocently.

“You know what, don’t sorry me, Fernando.” Mark smiled. Fernando swallowed, his hand resting on top of the fence at the end of his walk. There was no way they could breach this conversation if he hopped over it. “You’re breathing’s changed.” Mark observed. Fernando blushed.

“I-”

“-Now’s not the best time, mate, your walking to the track. I’d hate to leave you in a mess before you got there…” Mark muttered softly.

“Mark…” Fernando moaned gently, his hand gipping the fence tighter. What he would give to have Mark here right now…

“Later, Bub, I promise.” Mark said gently. Fernando pinned at him down the phone, his free hand inching towards his jeans. “No, Fernando.” A spark of arousal shot thought the Spaniard at Mark’s command. It would be naughty to disobey Mark, even if this wasn’t really something they had done before. Mark didn’t want Fernando to be completely submissive and need Mark’s approval every time he wanted to do something, even though Fernando was more than willing at the beginning of their relationship. In hindsight, Fernando was glad they hadn’t gone down that route, but at times like this he wondered what would have happened if they did…

“Later.” Fernando repeated, moving his hand back onto the fence.

“I promise.” Mark said softly. Fernando would have done anything to kiss him at that moment.

“Miss you…” Fernando sighed, climbing the fence and heading towards the track. He could see the entrance gate from where he appeared back on the street.

“Miss you too, buddy.” Mark smiled. Fernando couldn’t help but replicate. He stopped in the car park, 50 yards from entering the track.

“Have to go now…” Fernando sighed.

“I’ll be watching you here, mate. Make me proud.” Mark returned.

“Always try.”

“You always do.” Mark corrected. Fernando couldn’t help but beam at the gravel beneath his feet. “See you later.”

“Bye…” Fernando kept the phone pressed tightly to his ear. He wasn’t going to hang up on Mark.

“Oh, Fernando?”

“Yes?” Fernando returned swiftly, hanging onto Mark’s every word.

“You asked earlier, if I was still in bed?” Mark reminded him. Fernando knew exactly why he had asked, and it wasn’t to gauge how lazy Mark was being.

“Uh huh…” Fernando muttered quietly.

“I’m not.” Mark smiled and then the line went dead. Fernando’s eyes were blown wide. Mark had deliberately played it so the mental image was stuck in Fernando’s head. And Fernando could think of nothing but that mental image Mark had so perfectly drawn up. Because Mark had answered his silent question with the best possible answer.

_I’m not wearing anything._

Mark had slept naked and to Fernando, that was one of the sexiest things in the world.

-

Andrea and Stefano barely exchanged a look before Andrea was tearing down the paddock.

-

Beeping into the paddock, Fernando’s head was not where it should have been. It was full of thoughts of Mark, nakedly lying asleep with the duvet only just covering him, or on his back, his arse framed by the soft sheets. Fernando couldn’t help the thoughts. His skin tingled at the thought of being touched and right now he was glad for the long sleeves and the sunglasses. He was sure someone would be able to pick up on his aroused state from just looking at his pupils.

Fernando tried to force himself to think about the testing. Replaying the numbers he got from the night before in the debrief with Kimi. Remembering what objectives he was going to target today. He looked up at the sky; with the darkening clouds they might have some wet weather testing. That would be good. Fernando felt from last season he barely had a chance to show off his skills in the wet, especially at the beginning of 2013. He wanted to do it again, make sure he was still on it when it came to less grip. The wet weather tyre test was due for Friday morning but if it rained Fernando was sure they would push it forwards to today.

Fernando was so wrapped up in his varying thoughts he nearly walked straight into Andrea. He smiled at his race engineer, but the Italian was frantically gesturing to him, gasping for breath. The smile slipped from Fernando’s face as it turning into a frown.

“Andrea?”

“Go… Go… Motor… Home, Stef… Stefano… Needs… You…” Andrea panted, clasping his side. Fernando laughed lightly at Andrea’s panic.

“Ok.” Fernando nodded. Andrea seemed relieved. “Let me just-”

“-NO!” Andrea yelled, grabbing Fernando’s arm as he made to move for the paddock. Fernando frowned deeper. “This way…” Andrea breathed. As Andrea started to drag Fernando away from the teams and cars Fernando got more concerned.

“What is going on?” Fernando asked. Andrea continued to pull him, still gasping slightly for air.

“Stefano… Needs-”

“-Fuck Stefano.” Fernando spat, pulling from Andrea’s hold. Andrea turned to face him with a desperate expression. “Tell me what is happening.”

“Fernando, please-”

“-Did Kimi break the car?” Fernando asked. But he didn’t believe that; Andrea was reacting too frantically for it to be something as trivial as that. Andrea shook his head.

“Please, Fernando. Is fine, everything is-” Andrea’s words were stopped as a piece of paper was blown into Fernando’s leg, curling around his ankle. Fernando frowned at it, curious as he bent to grab it. “Do not-!” Andrea tried, reaching for the paper also, but Fernando got there first, clutching Andrea’s wrist in his other hand. He frowned at his race engineer, straightening up as Andrea eyed the paper dangerously. Fernando took no time in turning it over and looking at it, his frown of confusion turning into a glare of anger as he jaw locked.

Because he was standing behind the pit lane in Jerez, looking down at an A4 photograph of Mark and him. But not just any A4 photograph. It was their wedding. A picture Fernando had seen before. When he had first seen the picture of Mark and his first kiss at the registry office it had made his eye well up in joy.

But now he was shaking in anger, the picture slowly being crumpled in his hand.

“Fernando?” Andrea tried tentatively, taking the picture from Fernando’s hands. As soon as it was gone Fernando was running towards the paddock. Because Andrea had been too desperate to get him away. Too desperate to not let him see. And that scared Fernando the most. “FERNANDO!”

Andrea’s yell filtered into Fernando’s head as he saw it. Saw them. Everywhere. Breezing softly down the paddock, team personal picking them up with frowns. Fernando was frozen to the spot. Everywhere. His wedding photos were everywhere. For anyone to see. Fernando knelt down, scooping up as many as he could grab as Andrea caught up to him.

“Fernando, this is silly, come on.” Andrea pleaded, trying to get Fernando to his feet. But Fernando couldn’t move. Eyes wide and head shaking slightly. The picture of Mark and Jenson smiling as Jenson clapped his back. A close up of Mark sliding the ring onto his finger, just catching the inscription below the gold. Mark and him, simply standing in front of the registrar. Pictures of them dancing in the nightclub; close with hands all over each other. But the one that had Fernando frozen to the spot? The picture of his own expression as Mark said his personal vow. The one Andrea had taken. “Fernando, please, come on…” Andrea tried, crouching beside Fernando and taking the pictures from his hands.

But Fernando was on his feet again, and as he passed the Red Bull garage he couldn’t believe he could feel more furious. Stacks of them. All over the garage floor, stuffed into the drawers, rolled up in toolboxes, placed all over the car. As Fernando watched, one of the Red Bull personal opened his data pack to have loads more of his photos pour out and pile at his feet. He was happy to blame Sebastian, even if the logic didn’t work. It was all there, all in Red Bull. But then Fernando saw the Mercedes’s data pack pour out more images, and moving down the full paddock he realised they were everywhere. In every single garage. For everyone to see. People were staring at him but he didn’t care. Fernando didn’t know who had done this. It might have been Sebastian, he would be able to get to all the garages and it was something he would have possibly done, but he wasn’t at the wedding. Sebastian wasn’t there to get these pictures. And Andrea and Alan wouldn’t have sent the pictures to him. Fernando was sure of that.

“Who did this?” Fernando spat as Andrea caught up to him outside Force India. Andrea grabbed his arm, ushering him back into the Ferrari garage and towards the motor home. Fernando noted that everything was being searched through in the Ferrari garage, a tall pile of pictures sitting on one of the desks. Of course most would have been put in Ferrari. Whoever had done this was targeting Fernando.

“We do not know.” Andrea said sadly. Fernando turned on him but Andrea pushed him into the safety of the Ferrari motor home.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DO NOT KNOW!” Fernando barked, causing the entire principality to fall silent. Fernando didn’t care.

“Calm down, Fernando, please.”

“Calm down? CALM DOWN? YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN WHEN EVERYONE IN THE PADDOCK HAS ACCESS TO MY WEDDING PHOTOS!” Fernando screamed. Stefano came storming down the stairs.

“Thought you said you were going to make sure he did not see.” Stefano growled at Andrea, directing Fernando towards his office. Andrea followed close behind them.

“Tried. Is not my fault the wind has blown them everywhere.” Andrea returned in a frustrated tone. Stefano sat Fernando on the sofa in his office as Andrea closed the door.

“Do not worry, Fernando, we are getting them all. All of the teams have agreed to help get them. Need you to calm down, though.” Stefano said lightly. Fernando exhaled loudly.

“Someone should tell Mark.” Andrea said, folding his arms. Stefano nodded.

“No.” Fernando clipped. “No one tell him.”

“Fernando-”

“-Do not want him to know.” Fernando spat. He couldn’t even start to comprehend how this was actually making him feel. He felt crushed. Pictures that were supposed to be for Mark and him had been exploited everywhere. The potential for someone to see and mock him for them was too much. He wanted Mark here. He didn’t want to face this alone. But Mark was at least a seven-hour car journey away. What would be the point in telling him?

“He needs to be told, Fernando, given a heads up.” Stefano said lightly. Fernando looked up at him dread setting into his stomach.

“Heads up?” He asked, barely wanting to know the answer. Stefano and Andrea exchanged a look, trying to decide who gave the final blow. Andrea sighed, taking a seat next to Fernando and rubbing his back slightly.

“The… The press has already seen.” Andrea muttered. Stefano guiltily handed Fernando his iPad, showing the article that was already online. It started with a picture of the pit lane, dotted with thousands and thousands of white specs that were the photos. Fernando shook his head as he looked at the picture below, a close up of his face beaming so genuinely at Mark, captioned: _Fernando Alonso looking love-struck and his new husband, Mark Webber._

Everyone knew. There was no escape.

\- - -

It had been at least four hours since Fernando had called Mark. He had got out of bed and into the shower almost immediately after hanging up, upsetting the dogs from their comfortable cove around him. He had put the testing on the television with the sound muted so he could keep an eye on it as he moved around the empty house, doing his own thing. His boxes still sat untouched in the hallway. Mark was contemplating whether it would be better to wait for Fernando, put the final touches on their house together. It was a much more appealing thought because Mark was sure that Fernando would completely take over at some point, allowing Mark to lie on the sofa watching him as he sipped on a cool beer.

So instead he had taken the dogs for a long walk.

“Alright, calm down, he’s still not home yet.” Mark chastened at the dogs, bounding into the house. Mark laughed at them, letting them out into the garden as he retrieved his phone from his pocket. Still nothing. Mark sighed, frowning a little. It wasn’t like Fernando to completely ignore him. He put it to the back of his mind, thinking that Fernando was probably in the middle of testing and being ignored was nothing personal. He took himself into the lounge with the dogs, Simba curling by his feet whilst Shadow hopped up onto the chair, taking Fernando’s spot. Mark scratched him between the ears as he turned to the television, looking at the midday results.

He was happy to see Fernando at the top before lunch, his car only stopping once during the morning run. He was even happier to see Red Bull had only completed three laps before calling it a day. Yes, that was a pain for Daniel, who was debuting for the team that day, but Mark could only imagine how much it must be pissing Sebastian off. Still smiling Mark reached for his phone, adding another text to the bottom of the list of unanswered ones he had already sent.

_Good to see you keeping the Bulls at bay xD Keep boxing mate, looking good :) xxxxxx_

So twenty minutes later when Mark checked the phone for what must have been the hundredth time, slumped in the chair, it was fair to say he was bored of being ignored.

“I’m not calling him.” Mark said, turning to face Shadow. He lifted his head from Mark’s leg, cocking it to the side in intrigue. “I’m not the one ignoring him.” Mark said stubbornly. Shadow wagged his tail quickly. “No. Not happening.” Mark turned away from the dog, folding his arms and shaking his head. Shadow nuzzled at the pocket Mark had put his phone in. “No. He can call me. Or at least reply.” Mark sighed, sitting up. Shadow emulated, sitting beside Mark. He whimpered, placing his paw on Mark’s pocket before resting his head on it. Mark rolled his eyes. “I’m not being pathetic, mate.” Shadow just whimpered in response. “I’m not the one in the wrong!” Mark protested. As he did, Simba rushed up to the television, barking happily and wagging his tail. Mark looked up to see Fernando’s face on the television screen, eyes hid behind sunglasses even though he was sitting at the back of the garage.

Mark could tell something was wrong. He didn’t even have to be there to tell something was bothering Fernando. It was in the way he was sitting, the way his lips were pressed tightly together as Andrea spoke to him. The way his arms were folded and he was closing himself off to everyone. Mark reached for the remote, turning on the sound. But the commentary was unrelated, talking about Red Bull’s issues instead of the melancholy face of their local driver. Mark shook his head as the picture switched to the Mercedes zipping around the track.

“Come away, Simba. He’s just on the television. Still not here.” Mark chastened, pulling Simba back to the sofa with a light hand on his collar. Shadow continued to whimper at him from behind his back. “Would you just-!” Mark’s speech was stopped as he turned to see Shadow nuzzling his phone across the sofa seat. Mark sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew something was wrong now. Could it look like he was innocently checking up or would he look desperate? “I’m just checking on him.” Mark explained as Shadow sat up, smacking his tail happily on the seat. Mark’s thumb was already scrolling through the numbers as he fell back into the seat. Shadow’s head was back on his leg as he lifted the device to his ear, listening to it ring through. Simba sat up, resting his head on Mark’s knee and barking happily. “Yes, mate, I’m calling him.” Mark nodded, his eyes following the silver car whip round the track.

 _“… And with the pace this morning, it looked good, you’d think he would have something to smile about.”_ The Spanish presenter’s voices were lost to Mark, only half paying attention as he willed Fernando to pick up his phone.

_“Yeah, but how would you like it if you turned up to find the track full of pictures of your new husband and you?”_

_“It still sounds weird to say that…”_

_“I think it is acceptable to understand why he is not his usual chirpy self.”_

“Come on, Fernando…” Mark muttered, oblivious to what the presenter’s were saying as his eyes followed the Force India now out on track.

_“But is it acceptable what he has done?”_

_“I’m not sure I understand you.”_

_“Marrying a man? Is that right?”_

_“I think you are looking at that quite subjectively, actually.”_

_“Maybe, but come on – this is not right.”_

_“I’m not sure this is connected to Formula One.”_

_“It is now.”_

“Fuck sake.” Mark growled, shutting off the answer machine and calling again.

_“Look, everyone is free to love who they love. It’s not banned in this country. So good on them.”_

_“I wonder if Webber will go to Russia with him, or will he be banned? Hell, they may even have to get extra protection for Alonso out there.”_

_“Now you’re being stupid.”_

_“No, seriously! You saw what it was like for the Winter Olympics. Ferrari support might even be banned.”_

_“Don’t be daft. They can’t tell them who to support.”_

_“They can give it a good go…”_

_“Should we get back to the testing?”_

_“Not much happening yet, everyone is coming back from lunch.”_

“Exactly!” Mark agreed with the presenter as he redialled for the second time. “So answer the phone!”

_“Did you see it this morning?”_

_“It was hard to miss.”_

_“Do you think he did it?”_

_“No way – he’s too appalled by it all.”_

_“Then who? Got to be someone from the paddock… Another driver? Someone they would have invited to be able to get hold of those pictures.”_

_“Button? He’s the only driver I saw in the images.”_

_“Where’s the motive?”_

_“For those of you who have only just joined us, we’re talking about this:”_

Mark frowned at the screen as the picture changed to a long shot of the pit lane covered in what looked like thousands of pieces of paper. Having not being listening to the presenters Mark had no idea what was going on. Redialling Fernando again he picked up the remote, turning up the volume.

“This was the sight we were all met with arriving at the circuit this morning.” The Spanish presenter continued. Mark frowned. “It’s unclear who did it, but someone filled the pit lane and garages with thousands of images that are supposedly from Mark Webber and Fernando Alonso’s wedding. The Spaniard has not come forwards to confirm this yet.” Mark nearly dropped the phone.

“But come on, look at this one,” The second presenter said as the camera started sweeping over the images. It was paused on the photo of Mark putting Fernando’s ring on. Mark shook his head. This was impossible. “What else are they doing?”

“Granted, I’d be pretty sure it’s they’re wedding-”

“-Hello?” A voice said down the phone. Mark was transfixed to the screen.

“…But the real competition of today has been on twitter. The hashtag “WhoDunnitF1” has been treading since about nine this morning with your guesses about who is responsible for this. Some of you are saying Alonso-”

“-Bollocks!” Mark yelled at the television.

“Mark?” The speaker said down the phone.

“-But he is too outraged by the event for it to be him.”

“Damn right.” Mark growled, frowning in anger. He had one guess on who it was, but he had no idea how he had done it.

“Mark? Please? Is Andrea.”

“Button?”

“Andrea?” Mark asked, muting the television. Shadow and Simba were curling closer to him, Simba licking at his knee as if trying to lick away his bad mood.

“Yes, you call?”

“I was trying to get hold of Fernando.”

“He, errh… Has just gone out.” Andrea said lightly; he wasn’t going to tell Mark that Fernando had been deliberately ignoring his phone.

“Oh. Ok.” Mark took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Luckily the coverage had gone back to the track, now ironically following the red Ferrari down the straight. Mark didn’t want to know what the presenters were saying about his photos or the mysterious but not so mysterious culprit. “I was calling to ask what was wrong-”

“-But have obviously seen now…” Andrea muttered sadly. “He did not want to tell you.”

“Yeah, they’re doing a lovely little special on it right now, actually.” Mark spat, eyes glued to Fernando’s car.

“Am sorry-” Andrea tried.

“-Do you know who did it?”

“No, but are trying to-”

“-It was Seb.” Mark declared. Shadow nuzzled at his free hand until Mark exasperated, stroking along his head. It helped calm him a little.

“What? How do you know?”

“I just do. Is the little shit there?”

“No, was doing day one and two.”

“Of course.” Mark muttered. “Cleverly he’s run from the scene of the crime.”

“Sorry?”

“Do you know if he’s gone back to Switzerland?” Mark asked a confused Andrea.

“Would have to ask Christian.” Andrea shrugged. Mark nodded, absent-mindedly stroking through Shadow’s soft fur.

“Can you get Fernando to call me when he can?”

“Will try.” Andrea promised. Mark got to his feet.

“I can be there in about…” Mark muttered, moving through the house and finding a map Fernando and he brought when they considered touring Europe over the summer for their proper honeymoon.

“Mark is a seven hour drive. Cannot do this.”

“I fucking can.” Mark bit. Andrea sighed.

“Can get a plane, no? Gets you here in about three. Do this, yeah? This if you have to come.”

“He needs me, Andrea. You can’t expect him to tackle this alone.” Mark explained, already moving up the stairs to pack a bag.

“Is Ok for now.”

“The press haven’t got hold of him yet.” Mark sighed, pulling his old bag from the back of the wardrobe. “How long have you got left of testing?”

“About five hours. Then will need him for debrief then he goes to media.”

“Right, so if I fly I can get there before he has to talk to anyone about this?”

“If you fly now.” Andrea nodded.

“Then tell him I’m on my way.” Mark smiled, hanging up and slipping his phone into his back pocket, returning to the wardrobe and pulling out some of his clothes.

\- - - -

Mark tapped his knee impatiently. He had got the house sitter they normally used to watch the dogs for him, apologising about the short notice. But it seemed she had seen the news too; she completely understood Mark’s sudden disappearance. He was just waiting for his flight to be called to board. It should get him to Jerez with about an hour and a half to spare. Enough time to do everything he needed to if he was lucky.

Christian answered on the fourth ring.

“Mark?”

“I know you’re not busy.” Mark spat, his knee stopping its tapping as he lent forwards, anger already pouring from his body.

“Well, I errh… I sort of am…” Christian stuttered, sensing Mark’s mood.

“Don’t make me keep you long then.” There was a moment of silence where Mark head a door snap shut and the background noise significantly reduce.

“How can I help?”

“Is Seb still in the country?”

“I-What?” Christian said, startled by Mark’s question.

“Is Seb still in Spain?”

“He’s done his testing.”

“Yeah, but is he still in Spain?”

“It was him, wasn’t it.” Christian said, his voice seeming defeated. “He was there, at your wedding…” Mark froze.

“What?”

“He’d been following me around. Before we headed to the club he called me.”

“And I saw him in the club.” Mark pressed his hand to his forehead. How could he have overlooked something so simple?

“You saw him in the-?”

“-Look, Christian, I’m about to board a plane to Jerez because Fernando needs me because of him. I need you to tell me if he’s still in Jerez so I know where I’m going when I get off this plane.” There was a short pause before Christian answered.

“La Cueva Park Hotel. Room 619.”

“Is it just ironic it’s Fernando’s hotel?”

“I think most of the drivers and personnel stay there because it’s close.” Christian said.

“I want to see you tomorrow. You didn’t tell me you’d seen him at our wedding.”

“Alright, come by the motor home before testing starts.”

“See you then.” Mark said. “And thanks, Christian.”

“I had an inkling, Mark.” Christian admitted sadly.

“Yeah, me too.”

\- - -

Sebastian beamed at the television. Oh, he’d done this very well. No one had a clue it was him. They seemed to be torn between Jenson and Fernando. Every news channel Sebastian had checked had some mention of this, especially the sports channels. It had gone so much better than he had expected. He just couldn’t wait for Fernando to talk to the press.

That would possibly be the highlight of the day.

“That’s what you get for tell me my car’s shit.” Sebastian smiled smugly, grabbing his bowl of ice cream from beside the television and diving onto the bed, scrolling through his laptop. “And, you know, getting married…” Sebastian shrugged, smiling around the cold treat. This secret twitter page he had was wonderful. He could keep tabs on everything people had said, the votes on the “WhoDunnitF1” poll. Most people couldn’t decide between Jenson or Fernando, some claiming he’d done it and was acting up this annoyed thing. No one had mentioned him. Sebastian wasn’t even a candidate. Mark had been thrown into the mix about midday but considering no one had seen Mark at the circuit all day that had been forgotten about quickly. Andrea and Stefano had been pulled into the poll as being part of some kind of vengeful Ferrari ploy.

That had made Sebastian laugh.

But it wasn’t just that, it was the comments people were making. The opinions that were being thrown across social media: _It’s not right… Unnatural… Who’d want to support some faggot?... Disgrace to motor sport…_ There was so much hate flying around Sebastian could scarcely believe it. His imagination started flying. Could this push Fernando to actually _leave_ Mark? How Sebastian would love that. He’d be the constant reminder of what Fernando was ashamed of. Ashamed to just be himself. When somebody knocked at the door Sebastian skipped to it, assuming it was room service. Nothing could get better right now.

“Hi, Seb.” A cool voice said, but before Sebastian got a chance to register who it was he was falling backwards, pain rippling across his face. Mark shook his hand out, glaring down at the German as he slammed the door shut.

Right, Sebastian had forgotten about Mark.

“I thought you were in Oviedo.” Sebastian blurted, clutching his face. Mark advanced on him.

“Got that wrong, didn’t you.” Mark sneered as Sebastian retreated across the floor from him, climbing up the bed back onto his feet.

“How did you know I was here?”

“You’re not the only one with allies, Seb.”

“It was Christian, wasn’t it?” Sebastian spat. “Bastard.” He didn’t even wait for Mark to answer, rubbing his cheek. Mark took in the rest of the room: the television, the laptop, the iPad resting on the pillow. Sebastian was monitoring everything. Mark had no doubt in his mind.

“Let’s start with how the fuck you did this.” Mark stated, folding his arms. Sebastian smiled at him.

“That must really be bugging you.” He observed. Mark didn’t move a muscle. “I wasn’t there but I’ve got all the pictures…” Sebastian gestured to the laptop and Mark frowned at him. Rolling his eyes Sebastian pulled up the file full of the images. Mark approached it, hands flying to the mouse as he flicked through each image individually. Yes, they were all there. “I’m thinking of putting them online one by one. People have been complaining they can’t see them clear enough on the news footage.” Sebastian was back on the floor, clutching his face in pain after Mark had hit him again. Mark deleted the images from the computer, turning to Sebastian and holding out his hand.

“Give it to me.”

“You’re not very restrained…” Sebastian grumbled, getting back up and rubbing his cheek again.

“I don’t have to be anymore.” Mark said bluntly. “Give it.”

“Give what?” Sebastian said innocently.

“Don’t be a shit, Seb. Give it.”

“What!” Sebastian implored.  Mark rolled his eyes.

“Give me your back up.”

“Don’t have one.”

“You’re lying.”

“Want it, come get it.” Sebastian teased, thrusting his hip forwards. Mark gave him a bored look. “Or is that a privilege only for Fernando?” Mark grabbed the lamp from beside him and advanced at Sebastian. But Sebastian was ready for him, jumping away just as Mark swung it out and diving onto the bed.

“For fuck sake, Seb!” Mark yelled, throwing the lamp at him. It bounced off his braced arms, smashing against the opposite wall. “Hand it over!”

“No.” Sebastian said defiantly. “Now what?” Mark bounced on the bed, tackling Sebastian to the mattress with bared teeth. Sebastian tried to push Mark off him but the Australian simply held his wrists above his head. Sebastian looked up at them. “Kinky.” He winked. “Fernando let you do this?”

“I swear to God, Seb-”

“-So now you’ve got me here…” Sebastian mocked, fluttering his eyes at Mark. Mark slapped his face hard. “Fucker!”

“Hand it over!” Mark breathed.

“Find it.” Sebastian challenged, looking down at his jeans. Mark clasped Sebastian’s wrists painfully tightly in one hand as he put his hand in Sebastian’s pocket, moving to the next one when he discovered the first was empty. “You’re quite rough.” Sebastian observed. “I didn’t know Fernando liked that.”

“You don’t have a fucking clue what he likes so shut the fuck up.” Mark barked, glaring at Sebastian. Sebastian just grinned smugly.

“I read an interesting thing…” Sebastian said as Mark pulled him up slightly, checking his back pockets. Sebastian smile intensified when he was dropped back on the bed, Mark left empty handed.

“Hand it over.”

“I told you to find it.” Sebastian smirked.

“If you’re so lonely you need me to touch you Seb, you’re in a bad place.” Mark growled, eyes darkening in anger. “Especially when you have a girlfriend and a kid.”

“I don’t need anything from you.”

“If I go in there I’m leaving nothing looking pretty.” Mark threatened. Sebastian swallowed nervously before regaining his confident act, rolling his eyes and pushing Mark off him. Mark watched as Sebastian turned back around, holding the USB stick in his hand. Mark wrinkled his nose. “There’s something wrong with you.”

“I wanted to see how far you’d go.” Sebastian shrugged.

“I’m married.”

“Yeah, sure.” Sebastian smirked. Mark held his hand out, resentfully, for the USB but Sebastian brushed passed him, pulling the iPad towards him. “Listen to my interesting thing and then you can have it.” Sebastian bargained. Mark sighed, folding his arms and perching on the edge of the bed. “Have you heard of Fan Fiction?”

“Heard of what?” Mark asked, already bored.

“Fan Fiction. Do you know what it is?”

“Fiction written by fans?” Mark guessed. Sebastian grinned at him.

“You read it don’t you.” He teased.

“What was it you wanted me to listen to?” Sebastian dropped his eyes back to the iPad.

“It’s exploded today.”

“What has?”

“Fan Fiction!” Sebastian exasperated. Mark cocked an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know you were an avid reader.”

“I’m not. People keep posting links all over twitter.” Sebastian said, eyes frowned slightly in concentration.

“I also didn’t know you had twitter.”

“Here you go…” Sebastian smiled. He placed the USB stick on the bed beside him, side closest to Mark. “It’s called Wedding Night.”

“I’m not sure I’m following where this is headed.” Mark admitted, eyes flipping from Sebastian to the USB stick.

“Fan Fiction, Mark. Fiction written by fans.” Sebastian repeated.

“Right…?”

“They’ve written about you.” Sebastian nodded, preparing to start. Mark frowned.

“Me?”

“And Fernando.” Sebastian nodded, still smirking. Mark suddenly became very uncomfortable. “Listen… ‘Mark’s hands traced down Fernando’s cheek, scooping him close and sucking gently on his bottom lip’-”

“-What’s wrong with you!” Mark spat, blushing. It just spurred Sebastian on.

“-‘Fernando moaned pleasantly as Mark’s hands travelled lower’-”

“-Alright, you’ve had your fun now-”

“-‘Pulling his shirt from its tucked position in his trousers and slowly, tantalisingly undoing each button’-”

“-Seb, shut the fuck up.” Mark glared, taking the USB from the bed. Sebastian gripped his wrist.

“I’m not done.”

“Yes you are.” Mark spat. “Enough now. Just leave him alone. What did he ever do to you?”

“To me? He’s never respected me! He just thinks I’m a stupid little kid who accidently fell into Four World Championships!” Sebastian shot back. Mark rolled his eyes.

“You need to get over that. You’re ruining his life.”

“Good!” Sebastian cackled in a deranged voice. Mark pulled from his grip, shaking his head and moving towards the door. “I didn’t know you spoke Spanish.” Sebastian mused. Mark’s head snapped to him so fast.

“What?”

“Here…” Sebastian motioned to the iPad. “‘Joder, Fernando! más difícil más difícil por favor! Llévame más difícil!’” Sebastian was laughing by the end of it. “What does this shit even mean?”

“Fuck off, Seb.” Mark said, feeling a mixture of anger and vulnerability. He needed to find Fernando. Checking his watch he noted he had half an hour to get there.

“I didn’t think you’d bottom.” Sebastian said, moving towards Mark. Mark didn’t want to hear it. “Apparently you are loving Fernando’s cock in your-”

“-Stop it, Seb! Alright?” Mark snapped, feeling himself shake with rage and anger and confusion and hurt. That was between Fernando and him. Sebastian didn’t have the right to mock him for that. Sebastian just smirked.

“I thought you’d be the man in the relationship, you know, doing the fu-”

“-Seriously.” Mark sagged slightly as he opened the door, something Sebastian unfortunately did not miss.

“I can’t imagine you completely handing yourself over to him like that! Being his little fuck toy!” Sebastian laughed after him as he moved down the hall. “Or maybe that’s what _you_ like, Mark! Maybe you like pretending to be a woman for him! The one thing you can’t be for him, but maybe you like to pretend!” Mark stormed down the stairs, forcing Sebastian’s words to the back of his head. They were supposed to be maddening. They were supposed to make him doubt himself, doubt what he had with Fernando. But he knew they were wrong. What Fernando and he had was special. And rare. No one could take that away from him.

Sebastian was wrong.

Sebastian was wrong.

Sebastian was wrong.

Sebastian…It was wrong.

His words were wrong…

He was wrong.

\- - - -

Andrea grabbed Fernando as soon as he got out the car, rapidly explaining about how he had twenty minutes before debrief as he ushered him from the garage to the motor home. Fernando barely had chance to move, let alone talk. By time he was pushed into the principality he still had his helmet on. Feeling slightly stunned by the process of events, Fernando pulled his helmet off, stuffing his gloves inside and headed up to his cool down room. It suddenly occurred to him that he had left his phone in the garage. How was he supposed to call Mark without it? He really just wanted to hear Mark’s voice, even if for a few minutes, just to let him know everything was all right and everything was still normal. But Stefano was already moving him up the stairs, taking his race gear from his hands and pushing him towards his cool down room. Fernando really didn’t understand but with Stefano hovering at his shoulder he had little more choice than to go inside.

As soon as the door opened there were arms around him. Fernando reacted instinctively, pulling Mark closer. He knew it was Mark without even needed to see him. Stefano closed the door behind him as Fernando clutched tightly to Mark’s hoodie, fearing the Australian would fade away if he let go.

“Come on, let’s get you freshened up, yeah?” Mark muttered softly, kissing the top of Fernando’s head. Fernando let Mark move away first, holding tightly to the material on his back as Mark walked him through to the small bathroom. They showered together, Mark taking the time to wash each and every soapy bubble from Fernando’s body as if removing the day from him. Fernando let Mark towel-dry his hair and help him change before they fell onto the sofa together, Fernando curling under Mark’s arm snuggled tightly in Mark’s hoodie.

“Like this…” Fernando muttered, curling closer to his husband. Mark brushed his damp hair out of his face.

“Like what?”

“You taking care of me.” Fernando sighed, content.

“Finally!” Mark teased, pulling Fernando closer. Fernando buried his nose in Mark’s hoodie.

“You come all this way just for me?” Fernando asked, looking adoringly into Mark’s eyes. Mark nodded.

“You looked upset, mate.”

“Huh?”

“On the television.”

“Oh.” Fernando blushed, hiding in Mark’s chest.

“Then I saw what happened this morning.”

“Was not going to tell you.” Fernando admitted, closing his eyes and holding Mark tighter. Mark stroked a hand lightly through Fernando’s hair.

“I know.”

“Did not want you to worry.”

“I told the little shit to back off.” Mark said calmly. Fernando frowned at him.

“Hey?”

“Sebastian.”

“What did he do now?” Fernando sighed, feeling like one big explosion was enough shit for one day.

“The photos, Fer. They were him.”

“No, cannot be.”

“Yes, they were.”

“Where does he get the photos?” Fernando asked. Mark sat up, pulling Fernando’s laptop from his bag. Fernando readjusted around him, always keeping close. When Fernando saw the pictures on the USB drive he was fuming.

“It’s alright, Bub. We’ve got them now. He can’t do anything more with them.”

“You do not understand, Mark.” Fernando spat, getting off the sofa and crossing the room. Mark put the laptop aside and followed him, grabbing Fernando’s hips as he frantically started sliding his finger across his phone.

“Fernando, calm down, alright? Stop and think before you do something stupid.” Mark tried but Fernando wasn’t listening. He pressed the phone to his ear, ringing. “Who are you calling?”

“You know whose photo this is?” Fernando spat, moving to this discarded laptop and pulling up the first image. It was of Mark and Fernando walking out of the registry office, confetti flying around the frame and sticking to their hair. Mark remembered the moment. They were ambushed after they had finalised the legal documents. It had apparently been Diane and Ana’s collective idea. Mark loved the picture; both Fernando and his smiles so genuine as he tried to pull Fernando out of the storm of coloured paper. Though he couldn’t say he’d seen the picture before.

“Have I already seen this?” Mark frowned. Fernando shook his head, anger poured all over his face.

“I have. They did not want to share it. Only sent it to me yesterday but would show no one else so they could not get a copy.” Mark frowned. Who would be so secretive about an image? An image that was about to become their downfall. Mark tried to pull Fernando closer to him but Fernando shook his head, holding his crouched position leaning against the sofa.

“I don’t under-”

“-Dasha?” Fernando spat into the small device. Mark’s jaw dropped. Dasha had sent Sebastian all of the photos. Dasha had effectively leaked their wedding pictures to the world. It was Dasha who had helped Sebastian humiliate them like this.

How had Mark not seen this coming?


	40. Encouragement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There is nothing better than the encouragement of a good friend”  
> ~Katharine Butler Hathaway~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to take this opportunity to thank Szezsil for this amazing picture:  
> http://szezsii.tumblr.com/post/87336385609/webbonso-we-love-them  
> It's such an amazing feeling to see that my work has inspired you :') Consequently, this image has funded a few moments in this chapter, so in return you have also inspired me. I love how simple this is, how you have made it so perfect in such a raw form. Because really, it captures the essence of Mark and Fernando in this work. That's something I have tried (and hopefully succeed in) bringing across in this part.  
> Thank you so much again :')
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this part : )  
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“So, Nico, the Force India is looking good this year.”

“Yeah, we’ve got a strong engine thanks to Mercedes and I think the car is looking pretty competitive.”

“So, do you think you’ll be in the position to fight for a podium in Australia?”

“Well, it is difficult to tell at the moment because we have no idea what sort of fuel the other teams are running or what tests they are focusing on. We could be trying to set qualifying laps whilst they are performing race simulation. It’s really hard to tell but I hope we will be in the position to fight for the high points at least.”

“And when you arrived at the track today, did you see the photographs that had been dispersed around the paddock.”

“I did.” Nico’s voice became clipped and he folded his arms. It was obvious that this topic was going to come up. He was furious about it. He felt so mad for Fernando. Whoever had done that had gone one too far in Nico’s opinion.

“And what was your reaction to what you saw?”

“I was, and still am, furious.” Nico spat. Natalie frowned at him. “Not at what I saw but at the fact someone thought they had the right to do this.”

“I… Errh… So you don’t think Fernando could have done this himself?” Nico laughed humourlessly.

“No way. If he wanted the world to see those photos he would have done it online or in some other way, not like this. This is not how he would do it at all.”

“And Jenson-”

“-Are you seriously about to suggest that it could have been Jenson?” Nico scoffed. Natalie blushed a little, looking down at her notepad. “Let me make one thing clear. Whoever did this did it to get the exact reaction they are getting. They’ve done it in some kind of vendetta against Mark and Fernando. I can’t think of anyone on this grid who would be so heartless to do it to them. Yes, they both have and had their rivalries down the paddock but I can’t honestly believe anyone of us drivers would have done this. I am disgusted that someone thinks they can do something like this and get away with it. And, trust _me_ , if I ever find out who did do this I personally will make sure they pay for it.”

“So, have you… Have you actually seen the pictures?” Natalie asked to her hands. Nico took a breath, calming himself a little.

“Slightly hard not to when everywhere you go you find them. I opened my locker to get my helmet to find them all spilling out.” Nico seethed. “Yes. I have. And I think they’re amazing. So precious. Beautiful really.” Nico allowed a small smile to spread onto his face.

“So what is your opinion of their relationship?”

“I don’t have one.” Nico shrugged. “If those pictures are anything to go by they are completely in love and I don’t think anyone should try and separate anyone from the person they would put their life on the line for. Male or female. They’re happy and that is really all that matters.”

“So it doesn’t bother you that there is a gay driver on the grid?” A French male reporter asked. Nico frowned at him.

“If you didn’t realise, we have had one on the grid for a few years now.” Nico pointed out. The French reporter fell back into the crowd. “No. It doesn’t bother me. They can do what they want. It’s not affecting me.” Seeking out the French reporter with his eyes, Nico directed his next statement at him. “And I think this is a perfect opportunity for me to express my congratulations to the pair of them for being brave enough to not care what you fuckers think and get married. They’re a sodding inspiration.”

“Errh, thank you, Ni-”

“-And I’ll make sure I personally find Fernando and tell him that myself before you bastards twist my words to fit your narrow-minded articles.” Nico spat. His press officer grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back.

“Thank you, Nico.” Natalie finished. Nico stormed away from the press conference, feeling he had made his opinion fairly clear.

_\- - -_

_Keep breathing._ Fernando chastened himself, pushing his sunglasses over his eyes and pulling his cap lower. He knew he was going to be asked. Who wouldn’t? Who wouldn’t try and get an inside scoop on the photographs? Fernando shook his head, pulling his sleeves over his hands. He’d never been so nervous about a press conference before. Andrea clapped his shoulder encouragingly. His Press Officer, Roberta, was on his other side but none of them really wanted to be going to the conference. Fernando shook his head. This was stupid. He was just going to talk about the testing. Nothing else mattered.

_“Fernando, you need to calm down.”_

_“Calm down? You do not talk to her! You do not know how she reacts!”_

_“Fernando, please.” Mark pulled him back into his arms but Fernando almost resisted. He was furious. Furious at Dasha and furious at not having an explanation. Why had she done it? Fernando simply didn’t understand. “You need to go and talk to the press, mate.”_

_“No way.”_

_“Just go and talk about testing. Then we can get out of here.”_

_“Nope. Am not going anywhere.” Fernando hissed, glaring at Mark. Mark dropped his head in his hands._

_“This doesn’t just go away, Ok, Nano? You can’t just pretend it’s not happening.” He gritted. Fernando’s expression transformed into a frown._

_“Why are you yelling at me?”_

_“You’re being ridiculous!” Mark spat, getting to his feet. Fernando was more confused. He gripped Mark’s hoodie around him tighter._

_“Mark-”_

_“-What have you even done today, huh?” Mark glared. Fernando shrank into himself. He didn’t like this. He didn’t understand. “You’ve just mooched around in the garage, not told me and looked sorry for yourself!”_

_“I do not-?”_

_“-And me? I’ve flown across the country, confronted the little fucker and made it back here in time to comfort you! The least you could fucking do is what you’re supposed to, Fernando.”_

_“Supposed to?” Fernando frowned. Mark fell back in the chair beside him._

_“I don’t know, Fernando.”_

_“Have specific jobs now, do I?” Fernando was getting more annoyed at Mark. The Australian seemed to deflate._

_“No, Fernando.”_

_“Well you obviously think this.” Fernando folded his arms. Mark sighed._

_“Just talk to the press, Fer. I’m done with this shit today.”_

Storming out of his cool down room after throwing Mark’s hoodie back at him maybe wasn’t the best of ideas. Andrea had pulled him between the motor homes before any press members could see him brimming on the edge. Fernando couldn’t wrap his head around it. Mark had never just snapped at him before. What was going on? Dasha had apparently turned into Kimi and now Mark was being short with him. Fernando felt more alone than he had before Mark had showed up.

Andrea led the way into the Ferrari press pit. Fernando took a deep breath, fiddling with his cap and sunglasses one more time before he placed a smile on his face. He looked straight to Natalie as he held the metal railing separating him from the journalists. Flashes began instantly and red dots of cameras filming popped up everywhere. He focused on looking happy, looking content.

_Just go and talk about testing. Then we can get out of here._

“Well, Fernando, first day out in the car today. How did it feel?” Natalie asked in her normal cheery voice.

“Was interesting to get the first feels for this new car. Lots different from last year like the brake system and the use of ERS instead of KERS,” Fernando smiled, his eyes sliding to Andrea hidden behind his sunglasses. The Italian gave him a small nod and Fernando returned his attention to Natalie. “We take into consideration the data Kimi gets and we look for things to improve.”

“Currently, your car looks like it’s got some good pace. Comparing it to the Red Bulls who were your main rivals for the past four years.”

“Yeah, the car is looking good and competitive. Have not had too much issues with the reliability of the engine. Only we stop once today. And yes, the Red Bulls have not completed many laps so far so is not looking so good for them. But is difficult to tell where we are in the field because each team is doing their own tests, focusing on different things with different fuel loads. And to be honest we do not look around so much. We complete our test and they complete theirs. Australia is the first time we will start to compare.”

“But the Mercedes are looking quite good?”

“Yes, these do look quite competitive. Have got a lot of running in.” Fernando nodded. But then the atmosphere changed and the inevitable questions were due to come. Natalie looked uncomfortably down at her notepad before looking back up at Fernando, blinking rapidly.

“Errh, today, at the track, we all appeared to find some… Errh, some interesting photos…” Fernando was surprised at her unprofessional manner. But then again, everyone pointing a camera/microphone at him looked uncomfortable at the new questions. “Do you have any comments on that?” Fernando breathed out a laugh, dropping his head slightly.

“No, not really. Is not something I am here to discuss. We come to the track to test the cars ready for the new season. If someone thinks this is clever or funny or whatever then that is their choice.” He shrugged. “Do not have anything else to say on the matter.”

“But the speculation on twitter is that you could be putting on an act right now. That it was yourself who deposited the pictures at the track.” Fernando frowned at the French reported who had cut across Natalie who appeared to not want to ask any more questions. “We have all seen the pictures posted by Ferrari on their social accounts that you arrive last night.”

“So what are you asking?” Fernando stated, the anger slightly showing in his voice. He couldn’t really be suggesting that, could he?

“Did…” The reporter’s resolve seemed to fade slightly. “Did you place the photos… Photos at the track?”

“No.” Fernando bit. Andrea cleared his throat beside him, letting him know he needed to calm down. Fernando took a deep breath.

“Do you know who did?” How easy it would have been to say yes. Yes, because he did know who had done it. Fernando sent a glance at Andrea but the Italian gave a small shake of his head. Fernando sighed.

“No, do not.” Fernando muttered.

“Jenson Button is seen in the pictures…” Another female presenter said. Fernando looked to her but his breath caught in his throat as he saw her unfolding a piece of paper. She handed it to him and he looked down at the picture of Jenson clapping Mark’s back. One of his favourites. But they were all tainted now. Andrea pulled the picture from his fingers folding it up and putting it in his pocket. Fernando lost track of what was going on. “There is speculation on twitter that he could possibly be behind this-”

“-Definitely not.” Fernando said sternly. There was no way he was letting Jenson be dragged into all of this.

“But you say you do not know who does this.” The French man piped up again. Fernando shook his head.

“Was not Jenson. Was not me. Was not Mark. Nor anybody else you can think it is.” Fernando said bluntly.

“So you do know who does this?”

“Unless there are anymore questions about testing this interview is finished.” Andrea said, stepping in front of Fernando. “Ferrari, the team personal, and any of the drivers will not be passing anymore comments on this event. Thank you.” Andrea said firmly before taking Fernando arm and pulling him from the pit. Of course the cameras followed. The journalists who hadn’t got enough continued to ask their questions. Andrea and Roberta tried to fend the press off and get Fernando back to the motorhome without any more hassle but it becomes an impossible task, calling for Stefano and some other team personal to break the crowd up enough for Fernando just to get through.

“Is Mark here?”

“You certainty suggests that you know who has done this.”

“What has Mark had to say about this?”

“Why is it only Jenson features in the images with Mark and yourself?”

“Can we get some details about the day?”

“Will these photographs be published for the public to see?”

“It sounds like you know exactly who did this.”

“Fernando, can weget a statement on how you are feeling?”

“Do you have any idea-?”

“-When did this-?”

“-How are the other drivers-?”

“-After your twitter post over New Years-?”

“-Could you tell us-?”

“-Fernando-?”

“-If we could just-?”

He was being blinded by the constant flash of lights. He could only remember something like this in Hungary 2007 when he had tried to make it back to the motor home through the garages. But he couldn’t stand this. He couldn’t see. Couldn’t move. Someone had hold of his arm and was dragging him in one direction with certainty. Words in all sorts of languages were being called, shouted, yelled at him. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t see. He just wanted Mark. He wanted to fall to the ground, crumple into a heap and refuse to move until Mark came for him. But Mark was, sensibly, staying out of the way. He wasn’t here according to the public.

Someone else was suddenly beside him, shielding half of his body from the cameras as he was tugged through the ever-growing crowd. A hand fell onto his back and pushed him forwards. Fernando stumbled slightly and the hand grabbed into his shirt, keeping him on his feet.

“Keep your head down and keep moving.” A soft mumble of a voice came in his ear. Fernando looked round to see Kimi shoving through photographers and reporters without a care in the world. Fernando would have stopped in shock if Kimi hadn’t have been forcing him forwards. Andrea appeared on Fernando’s other side, mirroring Kimi’s actions as Stefano continued to lead Fernando back towards the motorhome. Back towards safety. Back towards Mark.

“Fernando, do you think it is right that gay drivers should be allowed in this sport?”

The questions had changed. Fernando forced his eyes shut, blocking out their words. His explicit trust in the people guiding him back to the motorhome. Back to Mark.

“Do you think gay athletes are a corruption to sport?”

“It was rumoured that Mark and you were seen together in India. Does this have anything to do with your nuptials?”

“Was your relationship with Dasha Kapustina a fraud so you could secretly be with Mark?”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Do you think your behaviour should be condoned?”

“Is this the sort of thing we need children looking up to?”

“What did Dasha have to say about this?”

“Mark came out in 2010, has this been going on since then?”

“Mark and yourself are very close-?”

“-Mark and you-”

“-Fernando, Mark and you are-”

“-Have known each other-”

“-What do your parents think-?”

“-Homophobic-”

“-Disgrace-”

“-The other drivers-”

“-Mark and you have been deceitful-”

“-Should you be allowed on the track-?”

“-Do the other drivers want to race-?”

“-Get out of the way.” Kimi growled over the yelled and filter of noise surrounding Fernando. The journalist standing in front of the motorhome door with the dictaphone held his ground.

“Fernando, do you think-?”

“-Do not make me ask again.” Kimi threatened, taking hold of Fernando’s shoulder and pulling him forwards. The journalist stepped in front of the pair.

“Fernando, can you explain-!” Kimi shoved the journalist out of the way, throwing him to the floor and sending his dictaphone flying. Stefano held open the door as Andrea and Roberta followed Kimi and Fernando in. Mark was there in the instant, pulling Fernando tightly into his hold. The flashes of the cameras continued from outside the door but, for once, Fernando was thankful of the tinted doors and windows. He held onto Mark tighter, trying to push their words from his head.

“This won’t stop, will it.” Mark muttered over to Stefano, Andrea and Roberta, holding Fernando tighter. Stefano sighed.

“Will die down eventually.”

“How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here tonight?” Mark frowned, his anger slightly seeping into his words. He had seen the whole thing on the television. He felt powerless sitting in Fernando’s cool down room just watching them swamp his husband. He’d have been out there dragging him back if it wasn’t for Kimi promising he would get him for him. In hindsight Mark could see Kimi was right; if he had have gone out there it would have been suicide.

“We will think of something, Mark.” Andrea said sadly, rubbing softly at Fernando's back. “Just take him upstairs. We will figure something out.”

“Thanks, Kimi.” Mark called over to the Finn. Kimi just nodded in acknowledgement, slipping back into the technical briefing room. Mark moved so his arm was securely round Fernando’s shoulder but Fernando kept himself moulded to his body.

“Who would want to do something like this to him?” Roberta breathed, falling into a nearby chair. She had never seen Fernando so broken. Not even when he lost the Championship in 2010 or 2012. Stefano rubbed her back softly, comforting her.

“Is Ok. We will find out who did this.”

“Yeah, we have.” Mark shot over his shoulder as Fernando and he started to ascend the stairs. All three of the Ferrari employees looked over at him, slightly confused. He turned to look at them, letting Fernando go ahead to his room. Once he heard the door shut Mark turned back to Stefano, Andrea and Roberta, folding his arms.

“Sebastian fucking Vettel.”

\- - -

“Lewis, the car was looking good today as it has been all week.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty quick and we’re managing to do a lot of running. Got a lot of laps on the board so it’s looking good.”

“This is your last day of testing here, so you are handing over to your teammate tomorrow. Will you stick around or head home?”

“Nah, I’ll be here making sure he doesn’t crash it.” Lewis joked. There was a small snigger from the crowd of journalists but it appeared muted. Lewis’ smile faltered a little. “Errh, no. I’ll be here looking over his data just as he has been with mine. Just trying to learn as much as I can about the car so we know where we’re heading for the next test in Bahrain.”

“So it’s been a successful first test for you?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you look at the problems Red Bull have been having it is good to see we’re definitely in a good place for the beginning of the season.”

“And your car has been claimed as the favourite to be the best this year.”

“Well that’s nice to hear but we really won’t know anything until Australia.” Natalie looked around at the crowd behind her as if trying to find someone else to ask questions. Lewis thought that meant he was done, but as Natalie looked back at him her expression was nervous. Lewis frowned. He’d never seen her like that before.

“You arrived here this morning to the circuit and there was… A few additions.” Natalie swallowed and Lewis fell into what the next question would be about. He passed his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Did you see them?”

“Yes…” Lewis said softly, looking at his hands gripping onto the rail in front of him. Natalie dropped her eyes also.

“And what was your reaction to what you saw?”

“Well…” Lewis cleared his throat. “I didn’t really have one, I guess. I mean, Fernando and Mark… They’ve always been close. I wasn’t overly surprised… More surprised that the pictures were… Everywhere…”

“And do you not think Jenson or Fernando could have done this?” The French reporter asked. Lewis laughed at him.

“Fernando or Jenson?” Lewis continued to laugh and the reporter rolled his eyes. “Come on, man, that’s got to be a joke.”

“No. We ask this question because of a poll on twitter. These are two main culprits.”

“No way, man. Fernando wouldn’t have done this to himself. We all know he prefers twitter announcements to anything else.” Lewis said in an amused voice. How on Earth could people make the main suspects Fernando and Jenson? If it was a driver Lewis would put his money on Sebastian or Kimi or someone. Someone who would be playing this as a practical joke. But he didn’t think any of the drivers had done this. It was too far to be a practical joke and the malicious intent was clear simply through the volume of images that circulated the paddock. If it had been a practical joke the pictures would have remained in Ferrari and Fernando wouldn’t look so disconnected.

“And Jenson? He is seen in he images, could it not have been him? Was only driving half the day today.” The French man insisted. Lewis shook his head.

“No. Jenson’s too close to them. And Jenson threw their bachelor party.” Lewis mused, the puzzle pieces clicking into place. Because a bachelor-styled driver’s drink party did sound a bit suss. Now it all made sense.

“Bachelor party?” Natalie asked, seeming genuinely interested. Lewis bit his lip. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to talk about that.

“Yeah, it was just…” Lewis sighed; he had already put his foot in it. “Jenson invited a few of us for a drink at the beginning of the year. Made it out to be some kind of themed drink but it makes sense now that it was a secret but not so secret bachelor party.”

“Can we have anymore details on that?” The Russian reporter asked.

“I, errh, I don’t think it’s my place to say.” Lewis paused, looking uncomfortably at his press officer who shrugged at him. “Can we get back to talking about testing?”

“Sure-” Natalie smiled.

“-Just one last thing, how do you personally feel about Mark Webber and Fernando Alonso’s relationship?” The French reporter asked. Lewis gapped at him.

“I…”

“How do you feel about having a gay driver on the track?”

“Well, Mark’s been… Been driving and he came out a few years ago…”

“So how do you feel about this?”

“About?”

“Their relationship. How they are forcing the world to see it?”

“I…” Lewis stumbled over his words. “Well, I guess it doesn’t really have much to do with me.”

“But how do you feel about it?” The guy insisted. Lewis swallowed uncomfortably.

“Look, whatever they want to do they can do. I don’t… I don’t really have an opinion.”

“Are you comfortably with it?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“So this is a no?”

“I have nothing further to say.” Lewis said in a small voice, knowing he’d probably already dropped himself in it. He nodded to Natalie before walking out of the press pen.

That could have gone worse.

\- - -

Fernando was sitting at one end of the sofa, curled with his knees tucked into his body and buried in Mark’s hoodie as he watched the Australian. Mark was sat at the opposite end, watching the post testing interviews with a small frown on his face. Fernando didn’t like it. He wanted the happy calm Mark back that wouldn’t let any of this bother him. But he seemed so concerned about what everyone else had to say. Fernando swallowed, flicking his eyes briefly to the screen to see Lewis before looking back at Mark.

“Mark?”

“Shh.” Mark said lightly, placing a finger to his lips. Fernando sunk back into Mark’s hoodie, material coming up around his nose. He was silent for a few moments before he shuffled along the sofa to Mark, moulding around his body. Mark initially didn’t react, too caught up with the television. Fernando started kissing gently across his neck, curling his fingers into his hair.

“Mark?”

“Fernando, can I just-?” Mark said, pointing at the television and turning to the Spaniard. But Fernando caught his cheek, holding his gaze.

“Relax?” Fernando requested softly. Mark frowned at him, confused, but when Fernando pulled at his arms he realised he had folded them. And that his legs were crossed. And that his back was tense. He sighed falling back into the chair, holding his arm out as an invitation for Fernando to slide into his embrace. Fernando complied happily, sighing in a relieved manner as Mark started drawing patterns up and down his back.

“Sorry, Bub. I didn’t mean…” Mark sighed, frowning at the television as Nico Hulkenberg appeared. Fernando laid a hand on Mark’s chest, gripping lightly into his shirt. “I don’t mean to be so short with you.”

“Are not being.” Fernando looked up at Mark, starting to get a little concerned.

“This is just… A lot has happened today.”

“Know this.”

“I want to be prepared for anything they’re going to throw at us.” Mark, sort of, lied. Fernando curled closer to him.

“Will be.”

“Fernando, I watched your interview. I saw how they lambasted you. I don’t want it happening again.”

“Will not.” Fernando tried to ensure. Mark shook his head pushing to his feet.

“You don’t know that.” Mark grumbled, crossing through the room and getting himself a bottle of water. Fernando frowned, watching him as he paced around the room.

“What is wrong?”

“Nothing.” Mark lied.

“Mark-”

“-Look, the last time this happened to me was 2010. It was a nightmare. I thought I was going to loose you.” Mark muttered, fiddling with the lid of his water. Fernando got to his feet catching Mark’s arms.

“Cannot loose me, Mark.” Fernando said lightly. “Not going anywhere.” Fernando slid their fingers together, looking up into Mark’s eyes. The connection Fernando was holding onto so tightly made Mark’s head spin. He could barely comprehend the attachment. Everything felt so crazy. It was swirling out of control. Mark thought this was his fault. He felt terrible. And Sebastian’s words kept swirling in his head. He gripped Fernando’s fingers back, knowing that as long as he had him he could always feel grounded, feel safe. Feel like at least something made sense.

“This is all my fault.” Mark whispered, screwing his eyes shut and resting his forehead against Fernando’s. Fernando looked at him with worried eyes, his free hand coming round to hold Mark’s cheek.

“No…”

“It is, Fernando… If I hadn’t…”

“Had not what? Is not your fault he gets hold of our pictures. Is Dasha’s. You did not do this.” Fernando insisted. Mark shook his head lightly.

“I did.”

“No, Mark-”

“-If I hadn’t have kiss you in that lift then none of this would have happened-”

“-What lift?”

“The lift in Japan. If I hadn’t have done that you’d still be happy and with Dasha and I-”

“-Woah, woah, woah.” Fernando frowned at Mark in complete confusion. How could he even be saying that? How could he have even come to that conclusion? “Where is this coming from?”

“You don’t have to pretend, Fernando.” Mark said, pushing from Fernando’s hold. Fernando looked at him dumbfounded.

“But I love you.”

“Only because I made you.” Mark turned his back, his inner hatred tripling at the new realisations. Fernando wrapped his arms around Mark’s shoulders, clinging tightly to his back. “You were happy, Fernando, I just had to leave you alone for six fucking races and I couldn’t even do that.”

“No, Mark. Love you. Have made me happier. If I had not have realised it then I would have realised it now. Is the happiest I have ever been. Leaving you in Brazil was the most painful thing have even had to do.”

“Fernando-” Mark didn’t want to hear him. He couldn’t believe him anymore.

“-Never want to leave you again. Would have realised this by now if we were not together. Would have missed you too much.”

“I’ve brainwashed you.” Mark sighed, dropping his head. Fernando forced him round to look at him, holding Mark’s face tightly with tears springing in his eyes.

“Have not. Stop saying this.”

“You were happy, Fernando.”

“Was not. Was lost. Am happy now.”

“Fer-”

“-Why do you think I end things with Raquel?” Fernando snapped making Mark look round at him.

“You weren’t happy. You grew apart. That’s what you told me.”

“Mark, these feelings of cold feet with Dasha were not the first time. Married Raquel because I did not understand how I felt about you. And you were with Ann. You appeared happy. But then you came out and all of those confusing thoughts hit me again and I could not stay with her. Had to leave.”

“But then you met Dasha.”

“That is because you were sleeping with every guy who passed by.” Fernando snapped, remembering the torrid time too well. When he had been single and confused and Mark kept turning up at his room drunk and upset he had made yet another mistake. When Dasha had arrived she felt like a breath of fresh air. And she seemed genuinely interested in him. But none of it mattered now because Fernando understood. He understood why Mark constantly ended up at his room after a horrible night. It was because Mark wanted to be with Fernando but neither of them really understood how to express it. And Mark obviously thought Fernando was into women.

“Something else you can blame me for then.” Mark deflated. Fernando shook his head rapidly.

“No, Mark! Fuck sake, I love you.” Fernando laughed lightly. Mark frowned at him as the Spaniard dried his face. “Have married you. Want to spend the rest of my life with you. Nothing you have done has brain washed me. Everything has been of my own decision. Why do you think I always come to you after shit races and not to her, hey?”

“Because she doesn’t get it and I do.” Mark sighed. Fernando shook his head, running his thumb under Mark’s eye.

“Because I wanted to be with you, not her. Just took me a while to realise. Mark I would not want my life any other way.” Fernando sighed softly. Mark moulded into his embrace. “Where do you get these ideas?”

“I…” Mark bit his tongue. If he told Fernando where the thought had stemmed from it would easily push the Spaniard back into a foul mood. He shook his head, pulling Fernando closer. “Promise you’ll never leave me, Fernando.”

“I promise, Mark.” Fernando said, gripping the Australian tighter. Something had happened. Something had made Mark suddenly doubt himself, doubt Fernando’s feelings for him. “Just like I promise when we get married. Just like I promise everyday.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sent you to the press. I should have… I should have come with you or something.”

“No, this would have made them worse.” There was a pause where Fernando just held Mark tightly, never wanting to let go again.

“Can’t you see how this is my fault?” Mark muttered quietly.

“Stop saying this.”

“But it is. I made them chase you through the paddock. I heard what they were saying to you… The…”

“Mark, please. Stop this. We get through everything together. Hand in hand. Am never leaving your side, Mark. This is not your fault. My fault for inviting Dasha.”

“Fernando, it’s not-”

“-If is not my fault is not yours.” Fernando smiled gently, pressing his lips to Mark’s. Mark just sighed, looking adoringly at his husband. “We can get through this. Is a tiny thing. As long as you are here will be easy.” Fernando assured. Mark just pulled him closer, praying that he was right.

\- - -

“You only did half a day of testing today, Jenson-”

“-Just get to the questions you all want to ask so we can move on.” Jenson spat. His press officer, Adam Cooper, shuffled uncomfortably, holding the dictaphone up to his face. Natalie looked startled for a moment, not really knowing what to say. “Or would you prefer a statement?” Jenson continued to seethe. Everyone looked around as if they wanted to be anywhere else.

“How do you feel about-?” The French reporter piped up. Jenson shot him down in flames.

“-How do I feel about it? How do I feel about my best friend’s wedding being leaked all over the fucking paddock? Why do you ask these fucking pointless questions? Is it not obvious? Do you really need me to spell it out? I’m fucked off. Monumentally. And if I was them I’d be throwing a shit storm right now.”

“Calm down, Jenson.” Adam muttered. Jenson ignored him.

“Whoever fucking did this had no right. And it’s been done in a deliberately antagonistic way. They deserve to be exposed and get their fucking comeuppance.”

“So you do not mind having a gay driver on the grid?” The French man continued. Jenson frowned at him.

“Have you got some sort of a problem, mate? And you should really get your facts straight before shouting out fucking ridiculous things like that. Mark has been on the grid for three years since coming out, you donkey.”

“Alright, Jenson, enough.” Adam glared. Jenson folded his arms. “If we could have some questions on todays testing, please.” He addressed the journalists. Natalie opened her mouth to speak but was beaten to the punch.

“So you think it is Ok for them to ram this down our throats?” The French man spat.

“Ram down your throat? What are you, dumb, deaf _and_ blind? They didn’t fucking do this.” Jenson scoffed.

“Do you know who did?” A Russian woman asked. Before Jenson had the chance to answer the French man was at it again.

“First twitter and now this. Next they will be posting pictures of their dicks on Instagram!” He shot. Jenson lurched at him but Adam’s arm caught him before he slammed into the rail. Jenson barred his teeth at the man as he was pushed back away from the microphones.

“Jenson, for fuck sake.” Adam spat in a hushed voice. Jenson exasperated, straightening his shirt. “You need to calm down or walk away.”

“Get that fucking twat out of here. He’s here for nothing but trouble.” Jenson shot. Adam closed his eyes, sighing.

“I know you’re upset about this, Jenson-”

“-Upset-?” The Brit started in an outraged tone.

“-But you need to calm down. If they’re going to ask their questions let them ask. Don’t comment if you think they’re going to piss you off.” Adam said sternly. With a sharp nod Adam took him back over to the cameras, apologising for the high running emotions of his driver. Jenson just stood with his arms folded, lips pressed tightly together.

“Mr Button?” The Russian woman said in a tentative voice. Jenson exhaled, looking at her. “Do you, errh, do you know who did this?”

“I have a very good idea who I think did.” Jenson gritted out. Adam raised an eyebrow at him. Jenson ignored him. After everything Mark had told him the cunt had done this charade had Sebastian written all over it.

“Could you… Tell us?” She asked, seeming unsure of herself. Jenson didn’t even think about saying no.

“Sebastian.”

“Sebastian? Sebastian Vettel?” The Russian woman asked, sounding shocked and worried. Jenson nodded.

“But Sebastian wasn’t even at the track today, Jenson.” Natalie pointed out.

“Exactly. That’s the fucking beauty of it. But he was here last night. And the papers appeared this morning.”

“What makes you think it was him?”

“He’s not here.”

“So you think he’s skipped out of the crime scene?”

“Yup. Because now he’s not in the limelight. No one will point the finger at him because he’s not here. And with his car looking like a waste of space he needs some sort of win around here.” Jenson said in a monotone. “We all know the tension between Mark and him last year.” _And all the shit going on behind closed doors._

“So you are condoning gay racers? You are saying these are good role models for children?” The French guy asked, apparently uninterested in Jenson’s hypothesis. Jenson rolled his eyes.

“My best friend is fucking gay, alright mate? Yes I condone it. I think it’s a fantastic role model to see. It shows that you don’t have to be put down by pricks like you! It shows that you can do whatever the fuck you want as long as you work for it! That who you love or don’t love really doesn’t and shouldn’t make a blind bit of difference!” Jenson stated. The French guy shook his head, turning off his dictaphone and walking away in a disgusted manner. Jenson folded his arms tighter, hiding his mouth under the collar of his coat as the cool wind swept through the pen.

“Jenson, you are the only driver to be seen in the images. Can you explain?” Natalie asked softly. Jenson sighed, a sadness falling into his eyes.

“I, well, Jessica and me, we were their signed witnesses. They referred to us as their Best Man and Chief bridesmaid. It wasn’t official so to speak but it was an honour to be asked by them to be such a big part of their nuptials.”

“And what was the wedding like? Where was it held?” The Russian woman continued. Jenson looked pained.

“If it’s all the same I don’t really think this is my place to say. It was their day and it should be their decision if they tell you the details. The actual public announcement has already been stolen from them by some wanker so lets at least leave this to them, yeah?”

“Of course.” The Russian woman smiled. “Could you then just tell us you feelings from that day? How seeing them get married made you feel?”

“It’s difficult to put into words,” Jenson started, his face breaking into his characteristic half smile before it spread to his other cheek. “The emotions were quite high that day, I think everyone had wet eyes at some point. Seeing two people so deeply in love really makes you value the people around you, you know? It was a beautiful thing to see and really, putting all of this shit aside, we should be congratulating them because what they’ve done is incredible. They’ve literally said ‘Fuck you’ to the world, if you’ll excuse the phrase, and done exactly what they wanted to. It’s obvious they don’t care about anyone’s opinions or what anyone else thinks or wants; they’ve done exactly what makes them happy. And it’s a shame it’s all come out like this because you can bet that when they felt the time was right they would have announced this to the world and everyone would have been able to see the love and support they share between them.”

“When you say ‘value the people around you’ I assume you’re talking about your girlfriend, Jessica Michibata, who was also at the wedding. It must be an emotional time of the year for you, with this and loosing your Dad at the beginning of the month…” Natalie looked up at Jenson sympathetically. Jenson swallowed the lump in his throat before nodding, forcing no tears to stray into his eyes.

“Yeah, she’s been a… A complete rock for me. I don’t really know what I would have done without her recently. And it is emotional. Getting into the car and knowing he’s not waiting for me in the garage…” Jenson shook his head, looking down and blinking the tears away. “It was hard the first time.” His voice broke slightly on the small sentence and Natalie felt a wave of sympathy. She wanted to let him go. This wasn’t fair on him anymore. “It’s not really got easier yet, but you know, I’m running the little cartoon for him on my helmet and I know he’s up there smiling down at me, watching all of my races and supporting me just like he would have done if he were here.” Jenson smiled weakly. “But, yeah, Jessica… Jessy has been amazing. Really understanding. It’s nice to have that around at a time like this.”

“Thanks, Jenson.”

\- - -

“Mark?” Fernando got off the floor, frowning as Mark slammed the bathroom door. He didn’t understand. One moment he was kissing Mark and the next Mark had thrown him, unintentionally, onto the floor. Fernando didn’t understand. He got to his feet moving across the room and over to the bathroom. They had only been back at the hotel for half an hour. Somehow Andrea and Stefano had managed to get them a clear run to Mark’s car out the back of the motorhome. Fernando had tried to cheer Mark up all the way back to the hotel but he had accidently succeeded in making Mark incredibly horny. Not that Fernando was complaining. “Mark?” Fernando asked again, knocking gently on the door.

“Go away.” Mark muttered back. Fernando pushed on the door handle, shocked when the door opened.

“No, need to know what is-” Fernando had taken two steps into the bathroom before Mark had pushed him back out, slamming the door in his face. Fernando looked up at the painted wood from his sprawled position, again, on the floor. “Mark!”

“Fernando, seriously, can you not just leave it?” Mark spat, voice muffled by the door. Fernando frowned even deeper and he got back to his feet, brushing himself down.

“Am worried now, Mark.” Fernando didn’t get it. He took hold of the door handle and shook it, desperate for it to give. “Mark, let me in.”

“No.”

“Am your husband!”

“That doesn’t give you any right-”

“-It gives me all the rights in the world! I care about you! Are worrying me!” Fernando persisted on his attack of the handle but it still didn’t budge.

“Well then just don’t worry.” Mark shot back. Fernando exasperated, taking a few steps back from the door.

“Will kick the door in, Mark.”

“Don’t be stupid, Fer.”

“Will do it in five!”

“Fernando-”

“-Four!”

“-You’re not going to-”

“-Three!”

“You’ll have to pay for the repair. It will be on your bill. Do you really want to explain it?”

“Do not care, Mark.”

“Fernando, I don’t believe-”

“-Two!”

“For fuck sake-!”

“-One!” When Mark didn’t appear in the doorway Fernando sighed. Panic more than anything else had him take two steps forwards and kick into the door. The lock was apparently quite strong. Fernando fell back on the floor, being pushed back by the momentum he through into the motion. He lay, starred out, on the floor, staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore the dull pain in his right leg. Maybe he should have put his shoes on before trying to kick the door in. “Fuck.”

“Are you Ok?” Mark asked, framed by the doorway. Fernando lifted his head off the floor to see Mark before letting it drop with a thud back to the ground. He winced, groaning in pain.

“Double fuck.”

“You’re an idiot.” Mark commented, crouching beside Fernando and examining his leg.

“Ow.” Fernando complained as Mark twisted his ankle from side to side.

“What were you trying to achieve there, mate?” Mark smiled lightly. Fernando just watched him closely. “I think you’ve twisted your ankle a bit…”

“Will be fine.” Fernando sighed, sitting up and holding onto Mark’s shoulder. More to make sure the Australian didn’t retreat back into the bathroom than anything else. Fernando was seriously concerned. “This lock is stronger than I thought.”

“You did bend it a bit.” Mark commented, resting Fernando’s ankle across his leg. Fernando sighed contently, letting his hands fall back beside him and support him upright as he kept watching Mark.

“What just happened?” Fernando asked softly.

“You tried to kick a door in and it won.” Mark smiled. Fernando looked at him seriously.

“You pushed me off the bed.”

“That was an accident.” Mark jumped in, blushing slightly. Fernando frowned deeper, touching one hand to Mark’s face. “I only meant to get you off me.”

“Why?” Fernando pressed. Mark shook his head.

“It’s… Nothing. It’s nothing, Fernando.” Mark sighed, rubbing Fernando’s ankle softly. Fernando wasn’t buying it.

“Have been funny all evening. First at the track, blaming yourself for everything and now this…” Fernando shuffled closer to Mark, forcing the Australian to look at him. “Please, tell me.”

“It’s seriously nothing, Fernando.”

“Did you not want me to be kissing you?” Fernando asked, worry piling into his stomach. As if to prove a point Mark pulled Fernando’s lips to his, engulfing him in a brief, intimate kiss.

“I always want you kissing me.”

“Is it because I was whispering?”

“What?” Mark laughed lightly. But his amusement was cut short by Fernando’s unimpressed look.

“Because I try to take of your shirt?”

“Fernando-”

“-Your shorts?”

“Stop, Ok? It’s nothing you’ve done.” Mark said. Fernando opened his mouth to speak before Mark added. “It’s nothing. Just drop it.”

“You push me off the bed! How can I drop this?” Fernando exasperated. Mark shook his head, focusing on the delicate pattern he was drawing over Fernando’s skin. They were silent for a while, Mark desperately hoping Fernando had dropped it and Fernando desperately trying to think of everything that was happening just before Mark’s hands were on his shoulders, pushing him off. He had been moving down Mark’s body, just kissing down his navel and had come back up on top of him, as he undid the button of Mark shorts, and said something… But… Fernando frowned as the words swirled in his head. Could that have been it?

_“… Thought we could try the blindfold again.”_

Fernando had thought he was being sweet. He knew Mark found it hard asking to be fucked but he also knew how much Mark had loved it on their honeymoon. And Fernando wanted to do it with Mark like that again, needed to feel that intimately close to Mark because he needed Mark to know how everything he did was for or about the Australian. But Mark had pushed him off. Mark had pushed him off just after he had made the reference.

“Was it the blindfold?” Fernando asked quietly. He felt Mark tense beside him and just about managed to grab the Australian’s shoulder before he got to his feet. “Mark-”

“-I told you to drop it.”

“Is this?” Fernando was a little heart broken. And he still couldn’t understand. Mark sighed.

“I panicked.” Mark admitted. Fernando pulled himself closer to Mark, crawling into his lap and brushing the hair out of his face, holding his cheeks gently in both hands.

“Why? Is just me. Can always tell me to stop, Mark.”

“I know…”

“Then why panic? If things go too far you just say-”

“-I know, Fernando, alright!” Mark snapped. Fernando gripped tightly to Mark’s shoulders. “Get off, Fernando.”

“No. We talk about things. That is how this relationship works. We talk and fix.”

“Fernando-”

“-Why did you panic? Did not panic in Caribbean. Enjoy in Caribbean. This is why I thought you would like tonight.”

“I need to get some ice for your foot or you won’t be driving very far tomorrow.”

“Mark, answer me. What happened? Did something happen earlier? Before you got to me? Mark, what happened before you got-” Fernando stopped mid speech as the penny dropped. Because there was only one place Mark had been before he got to the track. Fernando’s jaw locked. “What the fuck did he do?” Fernando growled. Mark frowned at him, confused by his sudden aggression.

“Hey?”

“Sebastian. What did he say to you?” Fernando spat. Mark blushed.

“Let me get you some-”

“-Mark! Tell me what he fucking said!”

“Calm down, Fernando.” Mark tried but it was to no use. “Where are you going?” Mark clambered to his feet, chasing after his slightly limping husband. It didn’t take Mark long to steer him back to the bed, setting him in a sitting position. “Fernando, stop this isn’t going to help anything.” Mark said lightly, brushing the hair out of Mark’s face. Fernando huffed.

“Tell me what he says to you.” Fernando asked. Mark dropped his head, shaking it and crossing the room.

“I’m going to get you some ice. Stay there.” Mark instructed lightly. Fernando folded his arms, watching as Mark left to go to the ice machine down the hall. As soon as the door had close Fernando was on his feet, slipping the room card into his pocket as he followed Mark out of the door. He left the door opened a jar and moved down the hall, turning his back to Mark as he did.

When Mark returned to the room with the bucket of ice and found the door open, he panicked.

“Fernando?” Mark called but he already knew where the Spaniard was. He already knew without searching the little room that he would find it empty. As Mark clicked the door shut he slid down the wall, holding his head in his hands. He couldn’t shake Sebastian’s words. They were corrupting his every thought. Making him resent Fernando’s sweet caresses. How had Sebastian done it so effectively? The ease of it all scared Mark the most.

\- - -

“So, Felipe, first time out in the car today, how did it feel?”

“Yeah, was good. For sure, being second fastest is a good way to start the testing. But, of course, cannot always tell how good this is until the races come.” Felipe seemed a little edgy as he spoke, something that caused Natalie to frown a little.

“Knowing you’re running the Mercedes engines, which appear to be the most successful, how do you feel about the upcoming season?”

“Good. Although like I say, we do not know what kind of fuel or testing the other teams are doing so for now this is all hypothetical.”

“Is it odd coming into this test not being with Ferrari?”

“A little, yes, but only because had been with them for six years. But Williams is good; gives me an opportunity to try out a new car and work with some very talented people.” Felipe forced a smile. The Russian woman cleared her throat.

“The pictures of Fernando and-”

“-No. Am not talking about these.” Felipe said sharply, shaking his head. The Russian woman looked at him, slightly confused.

“But-”

“-No.” Felipe stated defiantly. “Unless we have more Formula One related questions I will leave.” The journalists all looked around each other nervously.

“Your ex-teammate, Fernando Alonso, were you close to him?” The French reporter asked. Felipe could see where it was going. He sighed.

“Raced next to him for four years. Were close. Are close.”

“But not close enough to get an invite to his wedding?” The man pushed on. Maybe Felipe had misjudged the angle the guy had taken. Still, the Brazilian shook his head.

“Thank you.” Felipe said, moving from the pit.

“Felipe, wait!” The Russian woman called. Felipe slowly turned on his heels staying a few steps away from the microphones. “Please, just answer one.” She swallowed. Felipe still didn’t move. “You were, as you said, Fernando’s teammate for four years. Did you ever suspect anything was going on between Mark Webber and him?” Felipe studies her for a moment. Her voice was desperate, like she needed the answer to that question. Felipe sighed, relenting, and moved back over to her.

“They were always very close. For sure, was a common joke that when around the paddock. They always used to take it in good heart, Mark normally playfully putting his arm around Fernando or kissing his cheek. But it was all just banter…” Felipe paused, considering his words before vowing it would be the last thing he said. “Towards the end of last year things changed. Fernando was around less, I guess, spending more time in his cool down room. Thought, at the time, this was just because we had given up on 2013, his focus had switched to this year. And, for sure, he would have been sad Mark was leaving. But looking back now is… Clearer as to his change.”

“And what race… What race did the change start at?” She pushed. Felipe answered before he realised he had spoke again.

“Well, we all know the funny story of Fernando ending up in Mark’s room in Korea…” Felipe mused. Catching the shocked expression of the journalists it became clear quickly that they were not all aware of the funny story. Felipe cleared his throat. “Errh… So I guess… Japan he starts to change?”

“Japan!” The Russian journalist outburst, seeming angry and shocked. Felipe frowned at her.

“What is the finny story from Korea?” Another journalist asked. Felipe shook his head.

“Am not talking about this anymore. Want to say congratulations to the pair of them and if there are no more testing questions I go.” Felipe said calmly, feeling like he’d already dropped Fernando and Mark in it again. No one came up with anymore questions so Felipe gave them a soft nod and turned on his heels, getting out of there before he could say anymore.

\- - -

Sebastian was glaring at the television. No. Fuck no. That definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. No one was supposed to bring him into this. He was supposed to not even be a fleeting thought. And Jenson had pretty much just condoned him on the spot! Not good. Very not good. Sebastian needed to fix this. But he didn’t know whom to call. Heikki was gone. Christian was obviously in Mark’s pocket for some unknown reason. Antti was… Well, Antti was Antti. Sebastian didn’t really know about his new trainer at this point. Yes, he had helped, but grudgingly. Sebastian wasn’t sure what he would do if this all got out. He considered calling Kimi but that would mean admitting what he did and he wasn’t sure how Kimi would take it. Where Fernando and he friends now? They were teammates but then again Mark had been Sebastian’s teammate and Sebastian and Mark had definitely never been friends. Sebastian sighed, falling back on the bed.

“Fuck.” He muttered to the empty room. But then again, maybe this wasn’t so bad. Yes, Jenson had thrown his name into the mix but that was all he had done. No one had confirmed anything. Fernando had said he didn’t know who had done it but it was clear he had. So for some reason Fernando didn’t want people knowing Sebastian had done this. Maybe that was the thing that was confusing Sebastian the most. Why? Why was Fernando trying to protect him? Or was he? It didn’t really make sense anymore.

Sebastian eyed the door dubiously as someone knocked from the other side. The last person to appear at his door was Mark but after watching Jenson’s interview it could as easily be the Brit. Sebastian crossed the room slowly as the knocker picked up a rhythm of a three knock pattern. Sebastian tried the spy hole in the door but it appeared the knocker had their hand over it. Unintentional or not, Sebastian didn’t know. He swallowed nervously.

“Who is it?” The answer to his question was three more knocks and an attempt to opened the door with the shake of the door handle. “I won’t open until you tell me who you are.” Sebastian said nervously. He didn’t want another beating tonight. The knocker just continued to knock. The sound started burning through Sebastian’s head. “Stop it.” He requested with gritted teeth. The knocker became more insistent, knocking louder. “Fuck sake! Enough!” Sebastian yelled. The knocking continued. And Sebastian knew it would continue until he opened the door. He growled in annoyance, slipping the safety chain into its slot before he opened the door as far as it would.

Shock wasn’t the word.

“Fernando?”

“Let me in.” Fernando demanded darkly. Sebastian closed the door without another word, dropped the chain and opened the door as wide as he could. Fernando stormed in.

“Why are you- Are you limping?” Sebastian asked as Fernando got to the centre of the room, folding his arms. His eyes slid from Fernando’s foot to his eyes before he closed the door.

“What did you do?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Fernando.” Sebastian scoffed returning to the bed and collecting the remote. Fernando watched part of Felipe’s interview before crossing the room and shutting of the television, now standing in front of it with his arms folded. “I was watching that.”

“And I was enjoying the first month of being a newly wed, but you happily took that away from me.” Fernando spat. Sebastian sat forwards, folding his arms.

“What do you want?” The German sighed. Fernando continued to glare at him.

“What did you do?”

“I’m not following you.” Sebastian replied.

“What did you say to Mark?” Fernando bit. Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him.

“Why?” He asked dubiously. Fernando shook his head.

“You do not get to ask the questions. You answer mine then I go.”

“I can’t see what’s in it for me.” Sebastian shrugged, turning the television back on. Fernando crossed and pulled the plug out of the wall making Felipe’s face flashed onto the screen for a couple of seconds.

“You’re kind of starting to piss me off now.”

“You have no idea what being pissed off feels like.” Fernando shot back. Sebastian scooted to the end of his bed, dropping his legs to the floor and observing Fernando closely.

“Why don’t you try and explain?”

“How about you tell me what you say to my husband so I can get the fuck out of here.” Fernando returned. Sebastian screwed his nose up at Fernando’s words.

“No… No, don’t call him that.” Sebastian said in a disgusted tone. Fernando moved closer to him.

“Does it make you feel uncomfortable?”

“Yes, it’s wrong… On so many levels.” Sebastian shook his head.

“Sebastian.” Fernando growled, leaning close to the German. Sebastian swallowed, eyeing Fernando cautiously. “Tell me what you say to Mark.”

“Are you going to kiss me?” Sebastian muttered when Fernando’s face was only inches from his own. Fernando punched harshly into the side of Sebastian’s face in outrage at his suggestion. Sebastian yelled, falling onto his right arm as he clutched at his cheek.

“Tell me what you said.” Fernando shot at him, checking his knuckles. Sebastian spat some blood on the floor.

“Why? Is he crying somewhere?” Fernando had his collar tightly in his hand on the instant.

“I will do it again.” Fernando threatened.

“He’s been teaching you how to fucking punch?” Sebastian asked, whipping more blood from his mouth on his shirtsleeve. It wasn’t too bad, just as Fernando had punched him he had bit down on the inside of his mouth.

“What. Did. You. Say. To. Him?” Fernando raised his voice poising his fist again. Sebastian pushed him off him, crossing through to the bathroom and spitting more blood in the sink. He rinsed his mouth out a couple of times before drying his face and moving back into the main room with the towel still in his hands.

“What incentive do I have to tell you?”

“Did not think you were a fan of black eyes.” Fernando said in a blasé tone.

“Is he off moping somewhere? Sent you here to fight his battle because he’s not man enough to?” Sebastian sneered. Fernando frowned at him.

“What?”

“I guess you’re not used to this homosexual thing yet.” Sebastian shrugged. Fernando’s eyes followed him around the room as Sebastian made himself comfortable on the bed again. “Is that why you like him to pretend?”

“Do not-”

“-Have you ever heard of Fan Fiction?” Sebastian asked lightly. Fernando’s frown deepened. “No, suppose not…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Never mind.” Sebastian brushed his hand through the air to move on from the point. “I just didn’t know he liked to bottom.” Sebastian mused, watching Fernando’s face closely. Fernando didn’t react externally. Internally he was doing everything in his power to not throw himself at the German and punch him senseless until he told him how he knew Mark and he had done that or fell unconscious.

“You do not know what you are talking about.” Fernando said calmly. Sebastian nodded slowly, his eyes searching the room as if looking for the end of that sentence. “Is this what you say to him? You tease him about our sex life that you know nothing of?” Sebastian frowned at Fernando’s calmness. It didn’t make sense. Fernando was supposed to be mad… Right?

“That was one topic.”

“And this ‘Fan Fiction’ this was another?” Sebastian shrugged. Fernando nodded, crossing the room and opening the door. Sebastian followed him.

“That’s it?”

“Yes. Thank you for telling me.” Fernando continued in his calm tone. Sebastian scoffed at him.

“Good to see who cares more about who.” Sebastian poked. Fernando just smiled at him.

“You really have no idea.” Fernando said in a tone you would use with a naïve child. It set Sebastian’s skin on fire. After everything, everything Sebastian had achieved. All through last year, getting Dasha pregnant, ruining things with Mark and him, exposing their wedding, giving them grief all year, and still, _still_ Fernando was treating him like a child. No respect.

No fucking respect.

Sebastian’s fist clenched as he glared at the Spaniard.

“If you think this is over you’re wrong. Far from it. I’m only just getting started, Fernando.” Sebastian spat. Fernando laughed at him. A soft, light chuckle.

But he _fucking laughed._

Sebastian felt anger like nothing before.

“Ok.” Fernando said gently. Moving from the room. Sebastian grabbed his wrist.

“I know things you don’t know I know. I can do things you don’t even think I’m capable of. You’ve got no idea what I’ve got in store for you. You wait, Fernando. You just wait.” Sebastian threatened, his voice desperate, his grip tight on Fernando’s arm. And Fernando could feel his nails digging into his arm, knew he would leave marks there. But Fernando let him. Because Sebastian was desperate. Sebastian was trying to scare him.

Sebastian was running out of ideas.

Fernando just held his glare, challenged his deranged one with his calm one. Because Fernando knew as long as Mark was by his side he was invincible. And he liked to think Mark felt the same. Mark gave him a strange kind of empowerment that made him feel like, as long as they were together, hand in hand (physically or metaphorically) they could take on the world.

Suddenly everything changed.

“Jenson?” Fernando frowned as the Brit burst into the corridor from the lifts. Sebastian let go of Fernando’s arm, eyes widening slightly in fear. Jenson didn’t stop. He barged straight passed Fernando and into Sebastian’s room. His fists tight, his jaw locked.

“Jenson-” Sebastian started but the Brit took one look at the room, the laptop still set up on twitter, constantly refreshing, the iPad on Sky Sports news and the plug hanging out of the television that he assumed Fernando had something to do with.

“You did this.” Jenson spat. He didn’t even give Sebastian the chance to answer before punching him squarely in the face. Sebastian screamed as Jenson continued to punch him, kick him, beat him. Continued to give him his comeuppance. Fernando dashed into the room, pulling at Jenson’s shoulders.

“Stop!” Fernando yelled, dragging the Brit back. Jenson fought against Fernando, getting another kick at Sebastian. Sebastian had crumpled to the floor, holding his side tightly as he watched Jenson with panicked eyes, wincing every now and then as Jenson broke from Fernando’s hold to hit him again, watching as Fernando forced the Brit out into the corridor, slamming the door closed in their wake. “Jenson-” Fernando panted, but Jenson was back on his feet, trying to get back through the door.

“FUCKING CUNT! GET YOUR COWARDLY ARSE OUT HERE AND TAKE IT LIKE A MAN! YOU FUCK UP! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE?” Jenson hollered. Fernando pushed him back against the opposite wall.

“Calm down, Jenson.”

“Calm down? Calm FUCKING DOWN! DON’T YOU SEE? HE’S A WEAK LITTLE PRICK WHO CAN’T EVEN FACE UP TO WHAT HE’S DONE! I’M GOING TO KILL HIM!” Jenson launched at the door again but this time Fernando was ready. He started moving him towards the stairs.

“Enough now.”

“I’LL SAY WHEN IT’S ENOUGH. NOT NEARLY ENOUGH! HOW WOULD HE FEEL IF I DID THE SAME THING TO HIM!”

“Jenson-”

“-FUCKER! FUCKING GERMAN CUNT!” Jenson screamed, trying to run back at Sebastian’s door. Fernando forced him down the stairs and Jenson tripped, sliding down a couple until he landed sprawled on the floor at the centre point. Fernando helped him up and ushered him down the stairs. But Jenson kept fighting to get back up to Sebastian.

“Jenson, stop this. Let us go back to Jessica. Go and calm down before you do something stupid.” Fernando bargained. But Jenson was having none of it. He pushed Fernando back into the opposing wall, bringing their faces close. Fernando could see the hurt and anger running deep under the surface of Jenson’s eyes.

“Fernando, I’m doing this for you. It’s what the fucking wanker deserves.” Jenson spat. Fernando shook his head.

“Leave this now. Think about what you are doing.”

“I’m going to kill him.” Jenson said with so much certainty Fernando wasn’t sure whether he was just being hypothetical.

\- - -

“Kimi, your testing was done yesterday.” Natalie started but it was already clear in Kimi’s eyes that if she wanted to talk about the photos she had to be quick, because Kimi looked like he was ready to walk away. “Errh…”

“Being teammates with a gay driver, is this difficult?” The French reporter asked.

“No.” Kimi said bluntly.

“Is it different from last year?”

“No different. Fernando is still Fernando. Will still fight to beat him. Nothing changes.”

“And did you see the pictures this morning?”

“Saw them last night.” Kimi muttered. Natalie frowned at him.

“Last night?”

“Saw paper, not what was on them.”

“And you didn’t think to check?” The Russian woman asked.

“Did not care.”

“What is your opinion on homosexual drivers? Should they be allowed on the track?” The French guy called. Kimi shrugged.

“Do not care.”

“But surely you are worried.”

“No.”

“You’re not even going to ask me what I am assuming you are worried about?”

“No.”

“How is Fernando?” The Russian woman asked softly. Kimi looked at her.

“Fine.”

“Can you give us a little more?” She pushed.

“No.”

“What was your reaction to the pictures?” Another journalist asked. Kimi shrugged again.

“Did not have one. Did not care.”

“Did not care they got married?” The French guy stepped in.

“No. They do what they want I do what I want. Is not affecting me so is not bothering me.”

“Were you upset or annoyed when you found out you had not been invited to the big day?” Another voice called from the crowd. Kimi laughed at them. If they were really asking him that question he had done what he set out to do: give them absolutely nothing.

“No. I could not care less.” Kimi smirked.

“Do you have anything else to say on the matter?” Natalie asked, knowing it was the easiest way to get Kimi to give out information if he wanted to. Kimi just shrugged.

“No. Am happy for them so congratulations. Is nice to see them taking on my philosophy.” Kimi smiled a little, hoping Fernando and Mark would see this. Hoping it would, at least, make them smile after the shit that was today.

“Philosophy?” Natalie asked softly. None of them expected him to elaborate.

“Fuck the press.”

\- - -

Mark couldn’t sit still. Fernando had been gone a while. He was worried. What if Sebastian had said the same things to Fernando? What if Sebastian had made Fernando resent Mark? Made him feel like Mark was horrible or disgusting or just not who he wanted to be with? His mind was steaming. He couldn’t cope. He needed Fernando back here in his arms. He felt so stupid for panicking like that, for pushing Fernando away. He hadn’t wanted it; it was an impulse. Fucking Sebastian putting the fucking doubt in his mind. He wanted to apologise to Fernando but he was nervous. What if Sebastian had beaten him to it? Persuaded Fernando that Mark’s rejection was the beginning of the end? That Mark didn’t want him anymore? No, no, no. Mark shook his head rapidly, looking for some way to get out of his own head.

His head snapped to the door when it opened, but he was shocked to see Jenson thrown into the room.

“Are being fucking ridiculous!” Fernando hollered, slamming the door. Mark crossed to him as Jenson got to his feet. But Fernando met Mark half way, stroking gently across his face. Mark sighed, feeling instantly more relaxed.

“He deserves it! Every last fucking punch!” Jenson spat back at Fernando. Fernando reluctantly turned away from Mark to glare at Jenson.

“Will not stoop to his level.”

“This is not his leave, Fernando. His level would be taking him out somewhere public and _then_ punching the shit out of him.”

“No.” Fernando said bluntly. Jenson gaped at him.

“No?”

“Stay here. Nothing else is happening today.” Fernando declared.

“So you’re just going to let him get away with this?”

“Am not letting him get away with anything.”

“Can someone please explain what’s going on?” Mark asked, wrapping an arm around Fernando’s waist and pulling him closer. Fernando dissolved into him, feeling instantly content.

“Your husband is going to let the German cunt-face get away with spreading your wedding photos around the paddock.” Jenson seethed. Mark looked down at Fernando, slightly confused.

“Am not!” Fernando exasperated. “We are not doing anything tonight. Everyone is too upset. Something rash will happen and then there will be more trouble than good.” Fernando insisted. “Calm down and will take you back to Jessica.” Jenson looked to Mark for support but Mark had to agree with Fernando.

“Let’s just sleep on this, mate. We’ll make a plan in the morning.” Mark said softly, pulling Fernando closer to him. Jenson rolled his eyes.

“Sure, side with the guy you fuck, Mark.” He spat before storming into the bathroom and slamming the door. Mark sighed after Jenson but Fernando turned in his hold, wrapping his arms around Mark’s neck.

“I know what Sebastian says to you.” Fernando muttered softly. Mark deflated a little. Fernando caught his face in his hands. “Please ignore him.”

“I am trying, Bub.” Mark breathed, resting his forehead against Fernando’s. Fernando kissed his nose.

“You do not pretend anything for me, Mark.”

“I know…”

“Love you for exactly who you are. Would not be the same any other way.” Fernando assured. Mark looked down into his eyes. “Would not want it any other way.”

“And it’s the same, Fernando, you to me, me to you.” Mark promised. Fernando nodded slightly.

“Does not make you any less of a man or who you are if you want me to…” Fernando was trying to find a way to word it without sounding grotesque. “If you want to try the blindfold again.” Fernando said, a small blush on his cheeks. Mark nodded, a knot of nerves and excitement pulling in his stomach.

“I know, Fernando.” Mark muttered gently. He caught Fernando’s lips with his own, gently building the pressure until his hands were curled in Fernando’s hair, trying to pull the Spaniard ever closer. Fernando ran his hands over Mark’s arse, feeling the gently swell beneath his palms and he let Mark pull him closer, take control. But he wanted Mark to feel comfortable with the prospect again. He wanted Mark to be able to relax in his hold. He wanted to feel Mark melt into his embrace like he had done into the Australian’s so many times before.

“Fernando-” Mark broke from their kiss, a small tension in his arms as Fernando pulled him closer. Fernando looked up at him with adoring eyes.

“We go slow. But we will get there again.” Fernando promised, pressing a soft kiss on Mark’s lips. Mark pulled him into a tight hug, never wanting to let him go. He wanted to be able to feel Fernando again like he had on their honeymoon. It had been so intimate, so breath-taking Mark couldn’t believe the feelings were possible. He held Fernando tightly, loving the understanding they had between each other. It was times like this that really enforced to Mark that he didn’t want or need anyone else. Fernando was his everything.

“Thank you.” Mark whispered, kissing softly into Fernando soft hair. Fernando kissed him gently as Jenson came out of the bathroom.

“Sorry,” Jenson said, scratching the back of his neck as Mark settled Fernando on the bed, putting a pillow under his ankle. “For earlier. When I said you only sided with him because…” Jenson blushed as Mark let out a small laugh, putting some ice in a napkin. “I was wrong. It was rash… I’m sorry.”

“Is fine, Jenson.” Fernando smiled. Jenson watched as Mark brushed the hair out of Fernando’s eyes.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Jenson said softly. Fernando hissed a little in pain as Mark placed the ice on his ankle but relaxed almost immediately.

“Hold on, Jense; I’ll walk you out.” Mark smiled. Placing a soft kiss on Fernando’s forehead he moved through the room with Jenson and out into the corridor.

When Mark returned he noticed that Fernando had his laptop beside him and was on the Sky Sports website. Mark perched on the bed beside him and checked his ankle.

“How’s it feeling?” Mark asked, moving Fernando’s ankle slowly and watching his face in case he looked like he was in any pain. Fernando continued to frown at his laptop, fingers clicking away at the mouse.

“Cold.” Fernando said. Mark couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Is it feeling better?”

“Is just a little twist, Mark. Is fine.” Fernando smiled at him. Mark put the ice on the side table and moved into Fernando’s reaching arms. He sighed, leaning over Fernando with their noses almost touching. “Thank you, Nurse Mark.” Fernando smiled. Mark rolled his eyes at him.

“I’m no nurse. If I’m not a superhero I’ve at least got to be a Doctor.” Mark teased, kissing Fernando briefly before sliding the laptop down the bed and falling next to Fernando, pulling him to mould around his body.

“Superhero?”

“I saved you.” Mark explained. Fernando happily laughed at him, getting an adorable fake pout from Mark.

“You made me kick the door in the first place.”

“I didn’t _make_ you do anything.” Mark returned smoothly. Fernando curled closer to Mark.

“Promise you won’t do it again.”

“What’s that?”

“Lock me out. Not tell me things.” Fernando muttered. Mark looked down at him, a small frown on his face. “Was worried.”

“I’m sorry about that, bub. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Just promise you will not shut me out like this again. If you are worried you talk to me about things. Even if they are stupid things the dickhead says.”

“I promise, Fernando.”

“And I promise too.” Fernando sighed happily, curling back into Mark’s hold. Mark sat up momentarily to close the lid of Fernando’s laptop and put it on the floor before he pulled the duvet from under them and climbed into the bed. Mark straddled Fernando, sitting above him with the duvet on his shoulders as he slowly removed his clothes, leaving him only in his boxers.

“What were you doing on your laptop?”

“Was going to watch the driver interviews. Apparently they talk about us in them.”

“Are you overly surprised?” Mark said in an unvexed voice as he threw Fernando’s jeans on the floor. Fernando started pulling Mark’s shirt over his head.

“Not really.” Fernando sighed, his eyes falling to the fastening of Mark’s shorts as he undid them. Mark combed his fingers gently through Fernando’s hair.

“We’ll watch them tomorrow. Together.” Mark said and Fernando nodded. “They can’t be too bad. Did they interview everyone?”

“No, just a few at the track. Nico Hulkenberg, Lewis, Felipe, Jenson… And Kimi.”

“Kimi?”

“Yeah. Must have found him on his way home or something.”

“Or maybe Ferrari got him to make a statement.” Mark suggested, lying back down next to Fernando. Fernando shrugged, yawning.

“Will find out tomorrow.” He sighed, wrapping his arms tightly around Mark. Mark danced his fingers through his hair, kissing lightly at his forehead.

“Night, Fernando.”

“Good night, Mark.” Fernando snuggled closer to him. Mark cocooned them in the duvet.

“Te amo, Fernando.”

“Te quiero más que las palabras pueden explicar…” Fernando sighed happily. Mark pulled him closer.

“Yo siento lo mismo, para siempre ... Hasta que seamos viejo y gris…” Mark muttered into Fernando’s hair. And they both fell pleasantly asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Fingers linked tightly together, Fernando’s ring twinkling gently in the low light.


	41. Valentines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”  
> ~Lao Tzu~

“Fernando?”

“Hmph…”

“Fernando, I know you’re awake.”

“Mmm…”

“Fernando.”

“Mmm… Humph…”

“Stop being ridiculous, mate.”

“Am asleep.”

“And asleep people talk, yes?”

“Mmm…”

“Fernando… OI!” Mark yelled, trying not to laugh.

“Whhhaaattt?” Fernando winged tiredly, covering his ears with his hands. Mark just beamed brighter down at him husband.

“Budge up.”

“Am not training… We train yesterday… Staying here…”

“I never thought you’d say that.”

“Well…”

“Budge up, Fer.”

“Mmm!”

“I want to get back in bed, Fernando.” Mark said softly. Fernando cracked one eye open and looked at Mark. He lent up on his elbow, smiling softly at the sight he saw. He pushed the pillow he had been hugging tightly up against the headboard as he moved over to let Mark enter their warm duvet-cove. Mark placed the tray at the end of the bed before leaning down and stealing a kiss from Fernando.

“You make me breakfast.” Fernando smiled softly, rubbing his sleepy eyes. Mark scooped him under his arm, pulling the tray back onto his lap.

“Generally what you do for the man you love on Valentine’s day.” Mark smiled, popping a strawberry in Fernando’s mouth. Fernando chewed it slowly, relaxing into Mark as the sweet taste filled his mouth.

“We say small gifts this year.” It was their first Valentine’s together and neither of them had wanted to go overboard.

“Yeah, because you’ve allowed me to do what I want for your birthday.”

“This is because mine is first. I see what you do then can match.” Fernando grinned slyly.

“Cheeky.” Mark kissed onto Fernando’s forehead.

“Suppose if you make me breakfast,” Fernando said, leaning over to his bedside drawer. “Then you can open this.” Fernando put the small parcel in Mark’s lap before picking up one of the croissants and tearing one of the tails off, placing the soft pastry in his mouth. Mark pulled the card off the small present and flicked open the envelope.

_In this crazy world,_

_Our busy lives,_

_I sometimes forget to say the simplest things like…_

_“Hey, I really like you,”_

_“You are a good man,”_

_“My best friend.”_

Fernando watched Mark closely as he read the inside of the card.

_But one thing I will never forget to do_

_Is always love you._

_Mi amor, Mark_

_Por los siglos de los siglos_

_Hasta que seamos viejo y gris_

_Desde su esposo amoroso,_

_Quién es siempre tuyo,_

_Fernando xxxxxx_

“Thank you.” Mark said softly, kissing Fernando chastely. Fernando snuggled closer to him, suddenly a little dubious about his gift.

“This is not about pressure.” Fernando said, still watching Mark closely. Mark looked over at him, frowning a little. “I just thought it would be nice for you to have…”

“Ok…”

“Maybe just open… May become clear…” Fernando said more to himself. Mark pulled him closer. He wanted Fernando to know that it was OK. And it made him slightly nervous that Fernando was nervous. Without saying anything, Mark pulled at the corner of the plain wrapping paper and unrolled it until the thing Fernando had brought him fell into his lap. Fernando buried himself closer to Mark, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

Mark didn’t initially know what to say. He kept one arm pressing Fernando into his side as he picked up the soft red silk that was on his lap. He pressed his thumb into the small triangle that was cut out at the centre on the edge of the strip of material, knowing, understanding what this was. It was a blindfold. Fernando had got him a blindfold.

_This is not about pressure._

“Just wanted you to have this. Then you have a way of asking if you want… Know you are not so good at the-” Fernando never got to finish his sentence as Mark’s lips were firmly pressed on his, Mark’s free hand weaving into his hair. Fernando relaxed into Mark’s hold as the soft silk brushed across his face.

“Thank you.” Mark muttered between kisses. Because Fernando was right; Mark was terrible at asking Fernando to do things. They now had a universal signal. A way of communicating. And it was also nice to have the real accessory instead of using aeroplane sleep masks or ties or scarves. Something that would only be used for one thing. Something they could associate with being together.

“You really like this? Are Ok with it?”

“It’s perfect, mate.” Mark smiled, pulling Fernando into his lap and wrapping his legs around his waist. Leaning his chin on Fernando’s shoulder Mark played the silk through his fingers in front of Fernando’s face. “It’s red.”

“Is from me.” Fernando pointed out. It made Mark’s entire being tingle with anticipation. The idea that he could belong to Fernando was incredibly appealing. He liked the thought really. Most of the time Mark was expected to be the solid foundation. People assumed it of his relationship with Fernando, which didn’t bother either of them. Mark just liked the idea that he could belong to someone. That someone wanted to claim him as their own. “My gift seems a little silly now…” Mark sighed, holding Fernando close to his body as he ate his croissant, blindfold resting on the corner of the tray.

“Is breakfast not my gift?” Fernando asked, a little confused. Mark shook his head.

“I know we said small, Fernando, but that would be a bit of a cop-out.”

“Not at all.”

“Well, it would be to me.” Mark said, placing a slightly bigger present in Fernando’s lap. Fernando finished his croissant before opening the card.

_I will love you forever_

_For giving your heart to me_

_For needing me by your side_

_For making me smile when I am sad._

_But most of all, I love you_

_For loving me the way I am._

The white card had two little cartoon lions nuzzling in the bottom corner. Fernando caught Mark’s cheek behind his shoulder as he opened the card, reading Mark’s handwriting.

_Fernando,_

_You are my everything._

_When I think back to all those mornings not waking up beside you it makes me sad._

_But holding you in my arms makes me remember how I’m the luckiest man in the world._

_You are the breath to my life,_

_The fire to my ice._

_My little Spanish Lion._

_Loving you always,_

_Mark xxxxxx_

Fernando turned so he could pull Mark’s lips to his, breathing in the perfectness that was his husband. Mark moved the tray off Fernando’s lap so the Spaniard could turn around, looping his arms around the Australian’s neck and pulling him closer. The still wrapped present sat between them as Fernando rested his forehead on Mark’s, breathing slowly.

“Is perfect…” Fernando whispered, one hand still holding the back of Mark’s head, keeping him close. Mark kissed his nose.

“It’s true.”

“I love you so much, Mark. Cannot understand.”

“I think I have a fair idea.” Mark smiled. He moved Fernando slightly away from him, holding up the present. Fernando took it from his hands, wrapping his legs around Mark’s waist as Mark straightened his out down the bed. As Fernando tore the paper Mark moved the breakfast tray to his bedside table all the while having one arm wrapped securely around Fernando. Fernando shook out the shirt with a small frown, but it was instantly replaced with a beaming smile. It was a plain white round-neck t-shirt, but the front was dominated by a cartoon lion, smiling widely, driving a go-kart.

“Is a lion.” Fernando beamed, already understanding what it represented.

“A little Spanish lion.” Mark amended, smiling at Fernando’s reaction. Mark was glad he had moved the breakfast tray because when Fernando launched himself at him Mark only just had time to catch his arms around Fernando’s body before they were falling back onto the bed. Fernando’s lips were exploring Mark’s in every way that was humanly possible. Mark smiled, holding Fernando close. “You like it then?” Mark smirked as Fernando kissed down his neck.

“Sí…” Fernando purred against Mark’s skin.

“Fernando?” Mark asked, pulling Fernando back up his body. Fernando looked down at him, slowly inching Mark’s boxers lower.

“Yes, Mark.”

“Te amo.” Mark slowed Fernando down, cradling his head as he brought him close for a delicate kiss. Fernando melted into his touch, hands slowly gliding down Mark’s sides and dipping just below the elastic band of his boxers.

“Want to lay in bed with you all day…” Fernando sighed, kissing across Mark’s face. Mark’s breathing was stammering as the proximity of Fernando’s hands.

“Then let’s just do that.” Mark whispered, stroking a thumb across Fernando’s cheek.

“Have a meeting with Andrea…” Fernando muttered sadly. Mark frowned at him.

“That’s today?”

“Yeah…”

“When do you have to go?”

“Meeting is at half passed eleven.” Fernando said, consulting the alarm clock. It had just gone eight.

“You’ll be gone about an hour?”

“Uh huh…” Fernando nodded, his attention back on kissing down Mark’s neck.

“Maybe there will be a treat waiting for you then.” Mark smiled, fingers curling into Fernando’s hair. Fernando rested his chin on his navel.

“But you already make me breakfast.” Fernando frowned. Mark shrugged, looking down at him.

“I like spoiling you.”

“I want to make you lunch.”

“Alright, but only if you are a good and _quiet_ sue chef for me later.” Mark grinned at Fernando’s characteristic pout.

“Fine.” Fernando sighed when Mark showed no sign of moving on that deal.

“’Promise?”

“As long as you promise to let me make you lunch.”

“I promise.”

“Then I promise too.” Fernando smiled, kissing on the waistband of Mark’s boxers. Mark’s hips flinched involuntarily. “Would you like me to put the shirt on?” Fernando teased, making a show of removing the plain t-shirt he had slept in. Mark’s eyes raked his bare torso unrestricted.

“I think we can save the shirt for later.” Mark sat up, taking the shirt from Fernando’s hands and dropping it to the floor. Fernando shuffled back on Mark’s legs to give the Australian room to sit up and to also effectively hold him in place. Mark’s hands found Fernando’s waist as Fernando tangled his fingers into Mark’s short hair, looking down at him lovingly as Mark’s took in every expanse of Fernando’s chest.

“So now you have me here, what will you do with me?” Fernando muttered in Mark’s ear, kissing gently at his skin. Mark felt dizzy with pleasure as Fernando kissed down his neck.

“More like you’ve got me here, Bub.” Mark amended. Fernando let out a small laugh.

“Then what do I want to do with you…” he mused, stroking along Mark’s face. Mark looked up at him for a moment, catching Fernando’s eye before dipping forwards and sucking Fernando’s nipple into his mouth. Fernando’s hands gripped tightly to Mark’s neck as the Australian pulled him closer. Somehow Mark ended up on top of him, brushing the hair out of Fernando’s face.

“Now I have you.” Mark smiled gently, coving Fernando with himself as if telling even the sun to keep its hands off him. Making sure the natural world knew Fernando belonged to him.  

“You always had me.” Fernando whispered back, causing Mark to dip his head forwards and claim Fernando’s mouth as his own. Their sweet embrace was cut short by three knocks on the door. Fernando audibly groaned. “Pretend we are still asleep.” Fernando offered, pulling Mark close and kissing him.

“Fernando-” Mark laughed.

“Is earlier. Is possible.”

“It’s probably just the postman, mate.” Mark smiled, already starting to push himself off Fernando. Fernando gripped his shoulders.

“Then can put it through the letterbox.”

“Fernando, stop being silly.” Mark laughed, climbing from the bed. Fernando pouted at him as he crossed the room.

“No fun.”

“Hey, I am-” But Mark’s words were cut short as he realised he was standing naked in front of his husband. Fernando’s eyes took in Mark’s body with unashamed satisfaction. Mark looked down at himself before returning his shock to Fernando. “When the hell did you take those off?” Mark asked, scooping up the pair of joggers he had had on the day before. Fernando smiled smugly.

“Am Magic Alonso.”

“I think sneaky Alonso is more appropriate.” Mark sighed, zipping up his hoodie. “I’ll be three seconds.”

“I will count.” Fernando smiled. Mark kissed his forehead before dashing from the room, hearing Fernando call numbers in his wake. Mark was still laughing at him as he crossed the hall to the door, hearing joking calls of “You lied to me!” echoing behind him. So he was smirking when he answered the door.

But not for long.

“Heikki?” Mark asked, no humour in his voice, simply just confusion. The Finn held his arms up.

“Don’t hit me.” Heikki said seriously. Mark folded his arms.

“I can’t make any promises.” Mark’s voice had dropped to a dark tone. Heikki swallowed nervously.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Mark, please, I’m not working for him anymore.”

“But you’ve done your worth.” Mark spat, taking hold of the edge of the door. “Goodbye.”

“Mark, wait!” Heikki slammed his palm into the door to stop it shutting and barged passed the Australian barrier. Mark slammed the door behind him, glaring at the back of the Finn. “I need to talk to you. Both of you.”

“I need you to get out of our house.” Mark seethed. Heikki sent him a pained look.

“I tried to stop him getting hold of your photos.” Heikki stated. Mark continued to look at him in a bored manner.

“Didn’t do a very good job, did you.”

“Mark-”

“-And how did he get hold of them in the first place?” Mark seethed, still slightly unsure of how Sebastian had done it even though he knew Dasha was, in some way, involved.

“He put a photo share on Dasha’s phone.” Heikki admitted sheepishly.

“ _He_ did?” Mark questioned sceptically. Heikki scratched the back of his neck.

“I didn’t know what I was doing at the time.” Heikki protested. Mark grabbed his arm.

“Get out.”

“Mark, if I had have known I would have never done it!” Heikki stated desperately, digging his heels in the ground to prevent Mark dragging him any further.

“You still did. You still helped him do this to us.”

“I tried to get Dasha to delete it! Maybe she didn’t but I tried to stop this!” The revelation had Mark frowning at the Finn.

“What?”

“I went to her before your wedding and told her what he was up to. She just had to delete the photo share and he wouldn’t have been able to get hold of it.”

“Dasha knew that Sebastian had access to her phone before she came to our wedding?”

“I told her. I caught her just before she left her friends.” Heikki looked at Mark dubiously as Mark glared at the floor, eyes flitting around as he clicked everything into place. Sebastian lost Heikki as an accompanist but it appeared he had gained Dasha. “This is why I’ve come here. He’s lost it. He went mental when he found your public announcement about your relationship. And he’s running out of ideas.” Heikki admitted, getting Mark’s attention snapped back to him.

“Hey?”

“He’s running out of ideas.” Heikki repeated. Mark frowned.

“That’s good, no?”

“No.” Heikki shook his head. “It means he’s going to pull out all of the stops. Do anything he can think of without consideration of the consequences.”

“Like he’s considered the consequences thus far.” Mark stated sarcastically.

“Can you get Fernando? I really want to talk to both of you.” Heikki asked gently. Mark sighed.

“Alright.” Mark directed the way to the kitchen before calling, “Fer! Can you come down a sec?” up the stairs. There was a moment of silence where Heikki and Mark exchange a look before the soft thud of Fernando’s footsteps are heard coming down the stairs.

“Have told you before, Mark, I put it back upstairs.” Fernando’s smiling voice filtered through from the hall. Heikki frowned, raising an eyebrow at Mark who was boiling the kettle. “Do not want to do it with you in the kit-” Fernando abruptly stopped talking as he rounded into the kitchen, eyes blowing wide as he looked at Heikki. “Oh, hello.” Fernando blushes, pulling on the hem of the new shirt Mark got him to try and cover his boxer-only clan legs. “What is he doing here?” Fernando asked harshly as Mark moved over to him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“He’s here to talk to us.” Mark explained. Fernando folded his arms, feeling no more convinced or reassured.

“About what Sebastian is planning next.” Heikki added, watching as Fernando frowned at him, looking between Mark and Heikki for some kind of explanation.

\- - -

Fernando hated lying to Mark. Really. He hadn’t wanted to. And technically it was only half a lie. He did have a meeting with Andrea. Just, later. And it really wouldn’t take that long. But he needed the answers to his questions and Dasha had refused to tell him in front of Mark. So Fernando had to lie. And felt incredibly guilty in doing so. And it wasn’t making him feel any easier when Dasha had come into the small café they had arranged to meet up at. Of course the café was covered in pink and red hearts. And of course Fernando was surrounded by couples sharing tea. He wanted Mark. He didn’t feel comfortable meeting up with Dasha alone.

And it really wasn’t helping that she wasn’t saying anything. Just sipping delicately from her mug.

“So?” Fernando snapped, his arms tightly folded across his chest. Dasha blinked up at him, blowing gently on her tea.

“So?” She returned softly. Fernando checked his watch.

“Do not have all the time, Dasha.”

“No. I suppose you have to get back to Mark.” Dasha clipped. Fernando narrowed his eyes at her.

“Is this why you do it?”

“That’s a cute shirt.” Dasha commented, back to her calm tone. Fernando looked down at the lion shirt Mark got him this morning as Dasha sipped on her tea. He coupled it with a red, blue and white chequered shirt open at the front to reveal the image.

“Thanks… Mark got it for me…” Fernando smiled, still looking down at the image. Dasha rolled her eyes.

“Of course he did.” She muttered to herself.

“Sorry?”

“Don’t worry.” Dasha sighed, looking across the café at the other couples. _I still have something he can’t give you._

“So, the pictures-” Fernando tried, leaning forwards on the desk. Dasha grabbed her bag from the floor.

“-I had my sixteen week scan the other day.” She smiled, digging around in her bag. Fernando dropped his head.

“This is not what I came-”

“-The doctor said the baby is healthy and a good size. Growing well.” Dasha enthused.

“That is great, Dash, but-”

“-About the size of an avocado now.”

“Good-”

“-That’s about this big.” Dasha beamed, holding her thumb and finger about four and a half inches apart. Fernando fell back in his chair.

“Great.”

“Look.” Dasha smiled, handing the picture across the table. With a sigh Fernando took the image into his hands, looking down at it in a bored manner. But he couldn’t maintain his bored stance because he was shock with what he was faced with. Again. Because this time it actually looked like a baby. With a head and hands and legs. Fernando couldn’t believe it. Dasha smiled across the table at him.

“Woah…” Fernando muttered, causing Dasha to giggle. She moved her chair round next to his.

“Here, you can see the head, ribs, spine and these are the little feet…” Dasha pointed out. Fernando couldn’t stop the small smile appearing on his face. Dasha rested one of her hands on Fernando’s knee. “If you look at this angle,” Dasha continued, picking up the second image in her little pack. Fernando took it in both hands, astounded by how real it looked. “You can see the gender.” Dasha beamed at Fernando’s obvious captivation.

“You know what it is?” Fernando asked, mesmerised.

“I do.” Dasha grinned. “Would you like to know?” Fernando just nodded, eyes glued to the image. “It’s a little boy.”

“A boy…” Fernando repeated. One of Dasha’s arms came up around Fernando’s back.

“He didn’t enjoy the scan so much. Was kicking around a lot.” Dasha smiled, rubbing her second hand up Fernando’s leg. Fernando just nodded, his throat going dry.

“Is a boy.”

“I was thinking of Fernando for a name.” Dasha said softly. Fernando frowned at that.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” Dasha shrugged. “What do you think?” Fernando suddenly realised that Dasha had her fingers linked through his under the table. He snapped his thoughts from the child, putting the pictures on the table.

“Does not matter what I think.” Fernando stated, taking his hand back. Dasha frowned at him for a moment.

“I thought you might want an input.” Dasha defended. Fernando folded his arms.

“Is this why you give the photos to Sebastian?” Fernando shot, glaring at Dasha.  

“Can’t you see this is where you belong, Fernando?” Dasha pleaded quietly, leaning forwards. “You should be here, starting our family-”

“-I have a family.” Fernando spat. Dasha shook her head.

“You don’t. He can never give you what I can.” Dasha took Fernando’s hand tightly in her own. “I love you, Fernando. I want you to love this child, raise it as your own.” Fernando pulled his hand back. “He doesn’t deserve you.” Dasha added darkly.

“So you send the images to Sebastian in some ploy to get me back?”

“Fernando, look at you. You belong here with us, not him.”

“Am married.”

“Please, Fernando, stop being ridiculous.” Dasha snapped. Fernando scoffed at her.

“So you email him all of these pictures?”

“I love you. I’m doing everything for you. For us. I really do love you, Fernando.”

“What do you mean ‘doing’?” Fernando asked sceptically. Heikki’s words from that morning echoing in his head. Dasha just sighed.

“I won’t let him brainwash you, Fernando. You’ve forgotten what you’re about. We can fix this, Ok? We’ve still got time. You just have to leave Mark-”

“-You are the one who has lost it.” Fernando seethed getting to his feet. “How dare you come in here and demand I leave my husband.”

“Stop calling him that.” Dasha spat in response. “That’s wrong. So very wrong.”

“We are married, Dasha. Thought you were Ok with this.”

“We’ll I’m not.” Dasha huffed, folding her arms. Fernando shook his head.

“We are done here.”

“It’s wrong, Fernando! Think about it. I mean, _really_ think about it.” Dasha pushed, trying to encourage Fernando to sit back down.

“Have already done this. Think I would marry him if did not think this was the right thing to do?”

“Would you have married me?” Dasha asked, her eyes wide.

“It would have been wrong if I had have.” Fernando cut. Dasha dropped her head.

“This isn’t right, Fernando. You belong here with me and your child-!”

“-Is not my child, Dasha. Will never be my child.”

“He can’t be there for you like I can. He doesn’t love you like I do.”

“Do not know what you are talking about.” Fernando hissed, storming away from the table.

“Fernando!” Dasha called, grabbing her bag and trying to follow Fernando out. But he was gone and driving away in his car by time she made it out of the café. Sighing sadly she pulled out her phone, lifting it to her ear as it rang.

\- - - - -

The restaurant Juan Rouge was always busiest on Valentine’s Day. With it’s scenic view of the Thames river surrounded by Big Ben, Houses of Parliament and the London Eye many people sought out the candlelit tables for a romantic evening with their loved one. The manager had seen it all over the years; the happier moments, the petty arguments, the life changing questions, the secret parties that were not to be told to husbands/wives. Everything and anything was expected on the most romantic night of the year. A reservation for a table had to be made months in advance. It was the only way one could get into Juan Rouge on Valentine’s Day. Two years ago he had a couple sneak into the bathroom because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. It wasn’t the nicest thing to stumble across but there was little that could be done in the way of prevention on this eve. It was something the manager had gotten used to.

And he always hired in a cleaning company to sterilise the toilets the morning after.

It was even more exciting when he had a big client coming in. Someone who had booked a private area for a large sum of money. The manager himself liked to welcome such clients as the one he was expecting tonight. Checking his watch he rubbed his hands together, two menus tucked safely in his arms. The client’s arrival was imminent.

Jenson opened the taxi door for Jessica, paying the driver after helping her out of the car. She smiled softly at him as he held his hand out to her. It had been so nice to be spoiled by Jenson completely for a day. Not that she expected it, or wanted it every day, but it was the way that she had woken up to him declaring she was to do nothing but enjoy the day today. He had taken her to a spa and completely neglected his training for the day simply to be with her. She couldn’t love him any more than she did right now.

He’d even told her to buy a new dress for this meal. He had willingly gone clothes and shoe shopping with her. Something she would continue to tease him about for a while.

“Jense, this is wonderful.” Jessica smiled, wrapping her arms around Jenson’s blazer-clan arm as he led her towards Juan Rouge. It had been a place they had passed many times and she had always longed to go inside. Especially on Valentine’s Day. How he was doing all this for her made her so grateful. She wished there was some way she could repay him. “Seriously.” She pulled him to a stop, cupping his face. “The whole day.” Jenson smiled at her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“I’m very glad to hear that.” Jenson beamed. That had been the best part of the day: seeing Jenson smile constantly. Just like he used to all the time. He had somehow created a day where none of the worries of the world mattered. It was just the two of them. Just like it had been years ago when they first got together. It just made Jessica realise how much she loved him, how she never wanted to loose him.

“How can I repay you?” She sighed, brushing her fingers through his hair. Jenson shook his head slowly.

“You don’t need to. You’ve been so amazing for me so far this year, Jess. This is me repaying you.”

“Jense-”

“-I know. I know you did it because you wanted to, but you don’t understand how much you’ve pulled me through. So today is about you.” Jenson smiled, kissing her softly. He took her hand and moved her towards the restaurant. “Just no more shoe shopping.” Jenson teased as he held the door open for her.

“Aww, I thought you really enjoyed that.” Jessica winked, walking into the building she had been so curious about. It didn’t disappoint. Candlelit tables, a string orchestra filling the air with soft, delicate music, the smell of delicious food drifting through the soft breeze let in through the open windows revealing a breath-taking view. Jessica gasped, stunned into silence as Jenson’s arms came around her waist.

“It gets better.” Jenson smiled, kissing her cheek.

“How?” Jessica breathed.

“Mr Button?” A man with greying hair asked, moving towards the couple. Jenson turned to face him, nodded and extending his hand, which the man shook, beaming brightly. “My name is Flavio Juan and I am the manager and owner of Juan Rouge. Welcome to my restaurant.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jenson nodded, taking Jessica’s hand again.

“If you would like to follow me to your table.” Monsieur Juan smiled, extending his arm towards a set of stairs. Jessica sent Jenson a pleasantly confused look but Jenson just laughed lightly at her, leading her to follow Monsieur Juan.

“Ready?” Jenson whispered, moving behind Jessica as they reached the top of the stairs. He covered her eyes, walking her slowly through the deep red curtain Monsieur Juan was holding open for them.

“Jense?” Jessica asked as a soft breeze hit her face. A delicate kiss was pressed on her one bare shoulder as Jenson removed his hands from her eyes, sweeping her long, straight hair over her shoulder. They were out on a balcony; one singular table situated in the centre of the space with candles everywhere giving everything a romantic glow. A small string quartet started playing soft music from the corner as Jessica walked forwards towards the concrete rail, looking out at the stunning view of Westminster Bridge. It was far more astounding up here than it was from inside the main restaurant. Jessica reached for Jenson’s arms, wrapping them tightly around herself. She turned in his embrace, stealing his lips. “Thank you.” She muttered softly. Jenson tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled gently.

“The menus are here.” Monsieur Juan said, placing the menus on the table. “Please take your time. The sirloin steak is the chef’s speciality.” He nodded before descending back through the red curtain. Jenson’s attention was pulled back to Jessica when she touched his cheek. He smiled at her.

“Why are you so perfect?” She sighed happily. Jenson pulled her hips closer.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He beamed.

“I’m serious, Jense. I mean, all of this… It’s amazing.”

“Jessica, you’re amazing.” Jenson smiled. “There is no way I’d have gotten through the beginning of this year without you. You’ll never understand how much the last two months have meant to me. You are my rock. I can’t imagine anyone else I would ever want to wake up beside. There is no one else I would ever replace you with.”

“Jenson.” Jessica smiled, tears glistening in her eyes. But Jenson shook his head. He knew now was the moment he had been building up to. He knew it was now he had to say it.

“Jessica, the last six years of my life have been easy. Even though things haven’t been easy for me you have made them. You’ve made me wake up and face each day feeling like I’m invincible. And even when things have tried to tear me down you simply haven’t let them. I’ve had a rough year so far, yeah, but you’ve made it easier to deal with. It’s been hard but it’s just… It’s just you, Jessica. You make everything perfect.” Jenson took a step away from her as she tried to dry her eyes, pushing his hand into his jeans pocket. “I’ve lost people this year and I’ve seen people grab hold of the person they love the most and not care what anyone thinks of it. They just want to spend the rest of their lives together. And that’s what I want to do with you.” Taking her left hand, Jenson sunk to one knee, beaming brightly as Jessica gasped at his notion. “My Dad always told me to grab hold of you with both hands and never let you go. And Fernando and Mark have shown me how wonderful it is to do that with the person you would do anything for.” Jenson smiled, pulling the ring box from his pocket. Jessica covered her mouth with her free hand, unable to stop the happy, glowing smile or the tears. “Jessica Michibata, would you do me the greatest honour and make me the happiest man in the world; will you marry me?”

Briefly letting go of her hand, Jenson opened the box to reveal the engagement ring he had been hiding from her for a few weeks. She gripped tightly to his collar, crashing their lips together as she sunk to his height. Jenson smiled into their kiss, wrapping his one free arm tightly around her body, holding her close.

Holding her exactly where he wanted her to stay.

“Yes.” Jessica laughed through joyous tears, cupping Jenson’s face and beaming into her fiancée’s eyes.

“You’re not just saying that?” Jenson joked. Jessica shook her head, pulling Jenson back for another kiss. She settled in his lap, allowing him to take the ring from the box and slide it onto her finger. She couldn’t take her eyes off the beautiful sign of their love.

“I love you.” Jessica smiled round at Jenson. Jenson beamed at her, cupping her cheek.

“I love you more.”

“I love you the most.” Jessica beamed, allowing Jenson to press their lips together again. Nothing could have been more perfect.

\- - - - -

“Mark?” Fernando called, walking through the house. Mark had disappeared after Fernando had banned him from helping with the washing up. But now his husband was nowhere to be found. He walked into Mark’s study, gaining the attention of both the dogs. “Have you seen where he goes?” Fernando asked them. Shadow laid his head back down, giving no help. Simba just sat by his feet, looking up hopefully. Laughing softly at them, Fernando scratched Simba’s head before leaving them to go to sleep. He was completely confused. How could Mark just vanish like that?

“Is not so funny now.” Fernando called still with a frown on his face, walking along the hallway, heading towards the stairs. That’s when he saw it. And it had him frozen in his tracks. He moved towards their bedroom door, taking the blindfold off the door handle. Trying to process Mark’s request Fernando walked into their bedroom, more shocked to find Mark sitting in the centre of the bed, cross-legged, looking extremely vulnerable. Extremely nervous. Mark’s eyes found the blindfold in Fernando’s hand before he looked back up at his husband.

“Found me then.” Mark tried lightly. But his voice shook, revealing his nerves. Fernando closed the door.

“Did not realise you were hiding.” Fernando said gently, playing the silk through his fingers. Mark felt his cheeks heat up.

“I wasn’t…” He muttered, playing with the duvet and looking down. He was startled slightly when the hand cupped his cheek. He looked tentatively up into Fernando’s eyes. Fernando didn’t say anything. Nothing needed to be said. Mark had asked for what he wanted and Fernando was glad he had. So he pushed his hand into Mark’s hair bringing their lips together. Hot nerves washed over his anxiety as Fernando’s lips touched his, as Fernando’s tongue roamed his mouth. Mark moaned lightly as Fernando’s fingers traced up his back, under his shirt. Chilled digits sent shivers over Mark’s skin as Fernando pulled him closer, his lips falling down Mark’s jaw and onto his stubble-dusted neck.

Still Mark’s hands sat in his lap.

Fernando broke contact with Mark’s skin, looking deep into his eyes. Trying to read his husband without words. He traced the silk over Mark’s wrists as he brought it up to his face, waiting to see if Mark made a sound of resistance. But nothing. Mark sat, worrying his lip between his teeth as Fernando lent forwards, shutting off his sense of sight. Mark exhaled slowly as he felt Fernando’s fingers securing the knot at the back of his head. This was the point. Mark was supposed to use the loss of sight to not think, to allow himself to just be alert to Fernando’s touch. But in the darkness those words swirled again. And he couldn’t shake them. He wanted to do this. He _needed_ to do this. But the taunts… They were too much.

Fernando removed Mark’s lip from between his teeth, kissing him softly before crawling off the bed to get lube and a condom. He loved having Mark like this: sitting, waiting. It made him pang to feel Mark against him, have his strong hands on his hips. But he knew this wasn’t going to be simple. It wasn’t going to be as easy as it was on their honeymoon. Just observing Mark Fernando could see the tension in his muscles. And Fernando knew that whatever Sebastian had said to Mark was still bothering him. Still gripping to his skin when they found themselves in this situation.

When Mark found himself out of control.

Mark was shocked when the hands came from behind him. His breathing stammered as his nerves fought to get the better of him. As he argued with his instincts to pull the silk from his eyes and just breathe. But this was Fernando and he trusted him explicitly. Fernando took hold of the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it above his head. Mark squinted his eyes closed, trying desperately to fall into Fernando's touch, allow it to push away all of the words that were haunting them.

The next surprise came when Mark was pulled slowly backwards, being clutched tightly in Fernando’s embrace. Lying in Fernando’s arms Mark instantly understood how Fernando got to sleep so easily at night. Being in the arms of the man he loved he felt safe, secure. Mark let out his first relaxed breath of the evening, letting his head roll onto Fernando’s chest slightly until he could hear the Spaniard’s heartbeat. It was soothing. Mark needed nothing else. He was completely content just being in Fernando’s arms.

Without thinking about it he ran his palm over the smooth expanse of Fernando’s navel.

Fernando’s fingers were playing through his hair. If this was all it was tonight then that was fine by Fernando. It was progress, and a lot of it by the look of things. Just having Mark feeling content whilst wearing the blindfold was good enough. Because it meant that Mark was content being out of control. Mark felt happy in Fernando’s arms, in Fernando’s control. And Fernando probably could have pushed for more that evening, but he couldn’t find purpose behind it. Why push Mark too fast? Why risk going backwards?

He muttered quietly in Mark’s ear as he removed the Australian’s trousers, leaving him only in his boxers, explaining that they weren’t going any further. Mark didn’t visibly react and without being able to see his eyes Fernando wasn’t sure how that made Mark feel.

He did, however, understand what Mark wanted when he removed himself from the bed to change into his pyjamas.

The arm that followed him from the warm folds of the duvet was evidence enough. Mark wanted Fernando close. And with progress being important in this particular form Fernando could do nothing but oblige. He crawled back in bed next to Mark reaching around his head to remove the blindfold. Mark’s hand grabbed his wrist quickly.

“No.” Mark breathed, moving Fernando’s hand away.

“No?” Fernando wanted to keep words to a minimal when they did this. The idea was Mark didn’t think, he just allowed his instincts to take over.

“Don’t…” Mark let his voice fade out, a frown stretching onto his face. Fernando didn’t like the frown; that wasn’t what they were after. He cupped Mark’s cheek and kissed him softly. Kept pressing chaste kisses on his face until the frown was completely gone. Returning to the position they were in initially seemed to work wonders. Mark curled around Fernando’s body, pulling him closer and resting his ear above the Spaniard’s pulsing heartbeat. Fernando’s fingers returned to Mark’s hair, parting each strand, as his eyelids grew heavy. Mark had pressed his palm firmly onto Fernando’s navel spilling the warmth from his skin through Fernando’s being.

When Fernando was sure Mark was asleep he tentatively pulled at the loose knot in the red silk until it fluttered down Mark’s slumbering face. Never had Fernando seen anything so perfect. Mark was so peaceful, resting gently in his arms. Fernando was frozen in awe, never wanting to look away from his husband. He placed the blindfold on the bedside table quickly, returning his gaze to Mark as soon as he could. The light glistened through the window, catching moments of Mark’s face and making him look years younger. Fernando couldn’t help but smile. Pulling the duvet closer to them he cupped Mark’s cheek with his free hand, tracing his thumb over his sharp jawline. He was happier to see Mark looking more like Mark nowadays. Towards the end of his last season in Formula One he had started to look slightly hollow. Fernando wasn’t really sure why but he was glad to see Mark looking vibrant and fresh again.

Snuggling closer to his husband, Fernando resigned himself to just watching Mark sleep; the small flutter of his lips as he dreamed or the way he shuffled closer to Fernando’s touch.

Fernando would be content even if he didn’t get any sleep himself.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[](http://s24.photobucket.com/user/aholloway1996/media/112461-jenson-button-and-jessica-michibata_zpsea528187.jpg.html) [](http://s24.photobucket.com/user/aholloway1996/media/images-5_zps98114600.jpeg.html)


	42. Australia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It is already tomorrow in Australia.”   
> ~Charles M. Schulz~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little for Sweetpeapoppy ^_^
> 
> I hope you like it : ) 
> 
> *14*

His grip was tight, and tightening. He could feel his breath falling out at irregular intervals. And someone was bound to notice the perspiration on the back on his neck. He was just waiting for that moment when the fingers were torn from his, when he was left alone. That, in turn, made him hold on tighter, refusing to ever let go. He moved closer to that hand, forcing the gap between their bodies to be reduced. It was a mistake. He blushed as he turned around.

“Fernando?”

_“Fernando, do you think it is right that gay drivers should be allowed in this sport?”_

_“Do you think gay athletes are a corruption to sport?”_

_“It was rumoured that Mark and you were seen together in India. Does this have anything to do with your nuptials?”_

Fernando had been relatively close for most of the flight, but now Mark could feel him pressed up against his back. And it felt like he was trying to break his fingers. Fernando’s incriminating blush had Mark dragging him out of the stream of people heading for Arrivals. But Fernando fought back, trying to hold him still. Mark frowned deeper as he looked down at Fernando; curled into himself so small.

“Fernando, we’re in the way.” Mark muttered quietly, trying to move Fernando to the edge of the room. Fernando shook his head.

“Then we go.” He muttered. Mark sent him a pained look.

“Can you just-?”

“-No.” Fernando looked up at Mark, locking their eyes together. Stubborn. That all Mark could see. And the airport really wasn’t the place for a fight. With a defeated sigh Mark lead them onwards, still with Fernando trying to break his hand.

_“Was your relationship with Dasha Kapustina a fraud so you could secretly be with Mark?”_

_“How long has this been going on?”_

_“Do you think your behaviour should be condoned?”_

“Alright, enough.” Mark bit as Fernando stumbled over his feet of the third time. He was walking so close to Mark it really wasn’t a surprise. Mark forced him to the side and Fernando locked his eyes on the passport control, mere metres away. “Talk to me.”

“Mark, we are-” Fernando tried.

“-No. You’re the one who says we should always talk to each other.” Mark pressed. Fernando glared at the floor. “Don’t be a hypocrite, mate.”

“Am not a hypocrite.” Fernando hissed. Mark caught his cheek and held his head up, forcing him to look at him.

“Then talk to me.” Mark’s thumb rubbed soothingly across Fernando’s cheekbone. The Spaniard closed his eyes, content in just being there in Mark’s hold. “Fernando…”

“Do not…” Fernando begged, pressing Mark’s hand into his face as the Australian tried to move it away.

“Fernando, explain this to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Mate, I can’t get four inches away from you.”

“Want to be close.” Fernando whispered. Mark could feel the blood heating up his cheeks.

“This isn’t the sort of thing you do, Nano.”

_“Is this the sort of thing we need children looking up to?”_

_“What did Dasha have to say about this?”_

_“Mark came out in 2010, has this been going on since then?”_

When Fernando suddenly buried himself in Mark’s hold Mark knew there was a problem. He was concerned, highly so. He spun Fernando round as the Spaniard curled into his neck, holding his own back to the crowd in an attempt to hide his husband from prying eyes and curious whispers. He kissed Fernando’s temple softly, rubbing circles across his shoulders.

“Calm down, bub.” Mark cooed.

“Do not leave me.” Fernando muttered back. Mark’s heart panged as he held Fernando tighter.

“I’m not going anywhere, Fernando. Nowhere but your side.” Fernando nodded into his shoulder.

“Take me home…” Mark didn’t know what to say. He had no idea what had brought this all on. Yes, Fernando had been quieter than normal as they left their home in Spain to get the plan to Australia but he had never seen Fernando like this. Racing was his life.

“What do you mean, Fer?”

“Do not want to be here…” Fernando’s voice was muffled by Mark’s shoulder. There was a short pause where Mark tried to understand Fernando’s words.

“Australia?” Mark asked with a lump in his throat. Fernando frowned up at him.

“Huh?”

“You don’t want to be in Australia?” Mark tried again. The beautiful smile that spread on Fernando’s face melted Mark’s heart, just like it did every time he received it. _All for him._

“Are silly.” Fernando laughed lightly. Mark hooked his arm around Fernando’s waist as they pulled away from each other. Fernando’s fingers were tightly in his on the instant.

“Do you mind explaining what you meant then?” Mark asked quietly. The tension that had vanished from Fernando’s shoulders was back; the smile littering on the floor. “Fernando, please.”

“They will be here.” Fernando swallowed thickly as they approached the passport desk. Mark resentfully let go of Fernando, moving towards the guy behind the glass and sliding his passport over. Fernando instantly felt cold. He hadn’t held on tight enough. Mark wasn’t here and he was slowly moving further away. Fernando’s eyes shifted from side to side, taking in the other people waiting in the queue. Watching their expressions, catching them whispering. He hated it. He felt like everyone was against him. Mark’s frown looked back at him from the other side of passport control and Fernando forgot how to use his legs.

“Sir, can I help you?” A soft Australian female voice said from his left. Fernando blinked, forcing himself to breathe as he moved towards her. He heard the tut from behind him, saw the two people watch him before whispering frantically. Shaky hands slid his red passport across to the woman as more whispers echoed, more eyes held onto the back of his head resentfully. He felt like he was drowning.

Fernando literally dove into Mark’s embrace as he was let through passport control, but Mark was already leading him towards the toilets.

“Fernando, you need to talk to me.” Mark muttered softly, holding Fernando close as they stood in the vacant space.

“They will be waiting. Is nothing. Cannot hide from them…” Fernando breathed, trying to catch his voice before he started hyperventilating.

“Them? Nano, who’s ‘them’?” Fernando swallowed thickly, leaving a long pause between Mark’s question and giving his answer.

“The press…” Mark’s heart sunk as he pulled Fernando closer. He remembered the phone call like it was yesterday. Fernando had been panicking about this before. Mark had tried to reassure him but Fernando was convinced that it would be another event like when he was swamped in Jerez. Seeking out a way to calm Fernando down Mark had made the call to Ferrari, asking what kind of press control they could get at the airport. They had been keeping all mention of Fernando and his relationship mute over the rest of the test period. But Mark was greeted with the worst news: nothing. From the moment they landed in Australia until they reached the track they were alone.

Mark thought Fernando had calmed down about it but now it was evident he had not.

“Fernando, nothing is going to happen.” Mark sighed as he rubbed circles into Fernando’s back. Fernando pulled closer to him.

“Is…” He whispered, his voice almost lost in how close he was pressing himself into Mark. Mark kissed his temple.

“Look, I’m right here, Ok? I’m not going anywhere – we’ll face whatever is waiting for us together, yeah?” Mark cooed. Fernando gripped tighter to him.

“Can we not just stay here?” Fernando sighed. Mark let out a soft chuckle.

“Hiding in an airport toilet? How are you supposed to win on Sunday from here?”

“Do not know…” Fernando muttered dejectedly.

“Together, Fernando. I’m right here.” Mark pressed, linking his fingers through Fernando’s. The Spaniard exhaled deeply before giving a small nod and allowing Mark to lead him towards baggage reclaim.

The guy who had been hiding in the cubicle smirked as he heard the door close.

“See? I told you you were worrying about nothing.” Mark smiled lightly as Fernando and he walked out of the airport almost undetected. Fernando frowned around the empty taxi park; they was no one. No press, no flashing cameras, no flying accusations. Fernando didn’t understand. He was certain that this wouldn’t be so easy. “Fernando?” Mark asked from the taxi he was standing by. Fernando sent him a small smile as he moved towards the open door, sliding along the seat so Mark could climb in beside him. The Spaniard couldn’t help but stare out the window, his eyes frantically searching for the ambush he was sure he was going to receive. But there was nothing. No one. Fernando couldn’t get his head around it. The delicate fingers rubbing at his neck had Fernando turning to face Mark. He simply smiled, shuffling closer to Mark and snuggling under his arm. Mark kissed the top of his head as his fingers massaged through Fernando’s hair. He smiled wider as he felt Fernando fall heavy on his shoulder; a sure sign he had fallen asleep. So wrapped up in Fernando Mark hadn’t realised how quiet the taxi driver was. He didn’t see the pure evil joy in his eyes as he watched them both in his rear-view mirror…

\- - -

Mark wasn’t really paying attention to where he was going. He knew he was on his way to present some qualifying spot with Greg Rust but his attention was solely on his phone and the picture Fernando had sent him. How Mark hadn’t come across it earlier was bamboozling, but it was holding his attention, throwing questions around his head about what and why. He couldn’t knock the amused smirk off his face. Fernando had sent him a picture of the Spaniard himself sitting on what looked like an exercise bike in front of a large scalextrics track with Kimi beside him. There was no explanation to the image, just simply that. Mark was trying to find the relevance.

_Ferrari have you guys doing crazy things mate :P Maybe it was best I didn’t join the team ;) xxxxxx_

Mark went to lock his phone but it was as if Fernando was waiting for him to reply to the image. His phone buzzed quickly and Mark had to smirk at the mental image of Fernando sitting in his cool down room staring at the small device.

_\- Would not enjoy being on a bike with me? :P xxxxxx_

Mark didn’t even blink before he was sending a reply back.

_Of course mate :) I just think I’ll leave the little cars to you two ;P xxxxxx_

“Mark?” Mark turned at the sound of his name but instantly regretted it. Sebastian smiled brightly at him, moving closer. Mark’s grip on his phone tightened. “What are you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” Mark spat. Sebastian laughed at him.

“I’m racing.”

“Well, you have fun with that.” Mark growled, spinning on his heels. Sebastian grabbed Mark’s shoulder as the Australian made to move away.

“Wait!” Mark rolled his eyes before turning back to face Sebastian. “You didn’t tell me why you are here.”

“You haven’t been checking your Twitter account then, Seb?” Mark bit causing Sebastian to frown.

“Did Fernando need you to hold his hand?” Sebastian whispered. Mark saw the joy in his eyes. Mark hated it.

“No.” Mark clipped, moving away again. Sebastian matched his stride.

“Then why are you here? And where is he?”

“Feeling a bit lost with your feet out the water, Seb?” Mark sent back. Sebastian sent him a dubious look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Mark dipped into the TEN Sports media tent and away from Sebastian, his eyes automatically falling to the little screen in his hand.

_\- But you do not mind racing our little cars at home ;P Is ok, I beat Kimi. Maybe if we have to drink to make the cars go he would win ;) xxxxxx_

Mark tried to push his bad mood aside as he replied.

_I don’t know… You tend to guzzle down a bottle of water at the end of a race ;) xxxxxx_

_\- This is because am thirsty :) Kimi would still drink me under the table xxxxxx_

_Maybe that’s a assumption we shouldn’t trial… :P xxxxxx_

_\- I thought you liked me drunk. Recall you saying I was cute ^_^ xxxxxx_

_Still a pain in my arse ;) xxxxxx_

“Oomph!” Mark just about managed to stop the girl who had walked into him from crashing to the ground. Mainly because he had stumbled sideways and she had fallen on top of him. She was hasty to get to her feet, sweeping her dark hair out of her face. “Sorry…” She blushed, holding out a hand to Mark and staring pointedly at the floor. Mark smiled at her as he collected his phone and got to his feet. She dropped his hand on the instant.

“That’s ok.” Mark smiled, craning his head round to try and catch her eye. She couldn’t help but laugh at him and Mark saw a flash of brilliant blue eyes. She was pretty. Mark straightened up. “I’m-”

“-Yeah, I know exactly who you are.” The girl blushed, accepting Mark’s extended hand. “I’m Jai.”

“Nice to meet you, Jai.” Mark smiled. Jai tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Any particular reason you felt like running into me? Or is that just how you score an introduction?”

“Well, yes, but no, that’s not why I ran into you.” She smiled. “I got a call that Sebastian Vettel was around so I was going to try and get a sneaky interview before qualifying. I didn’t expect you to be here… Sorry.”

“Why Seb?” Mark asked, his annoyance at his ex-teammate filtering into his voice. It made Jai frown slightly.

“Errh, just who is about I guess.” She shrugged. “I was hoping to catch Maldonado before he went out as well.”

“I see.” Mark nodded, relaxing a little. “Not Fernando then?” He smirked.

“You’d probably be best for getting that exclusive.” Jai said. Her hands clamped over her mouth as Mark raised his eyebrow at her. “Oh my god, no. No; what I meant was-”

“-Relax, it’s Ok.” Mark smiled. Jai worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she lowered her hands. “Seriously, I’m used to it from Jenson.”

“Right…” Jai muttered. Feeling she’d already put her foot in it enough for one day she headed for the door. “I best be off to get those interviews then.” She smiled softly. Mark nodded.

“Nice meeting you.”

“And you.” Mark held the door open for Jai as she moved out into the paddock, jogging after the retreating figure of Sebastian. Mark’s phone vibrated in his hand alerting him that Fernando had texted. Mark was more than a little shocked with the message he received, wondering momentarily if Kimi or Jenson had nicked his phone.

_\- I thought you like this ;) xxxxxx_

Mark couldn’t help the shiver of pleasure that ran through his body at Fernando’s implication. He still remembered that night on their honeymoon so well. But they would get back to that. They were stronger than Sebastian and his mind games. Mark knew it.

_Cheeky ;) xxxxxx_

Just as Mark sent the message to Fernando his attention was pulled, again, by Sebastian. He sent him a small wave as Jai moved past him towards the Lotus garages. But Sebastian was leaning against the Ferrari motorhome. Mark just glared at him but it was apparently what Sebastian was after. His smirk was still clear in the distance between them as the German disappeared into the garages Mark would have been heading to this time last year. How things had changed in twelve months. But Mark wasn’t pondering on that. His fingers were already sending Fernando another message.

_Do me a favour: show that German fucker who’s boss today on track :D <3 xxxxxx_

\- - - - -

Romain tapped his foot impatiently as he stood in front of the journalists. His eyes were still watching the other cars fly passed, still out battling for the higher positions. The muted sound of the now turbo V6s was really mocking him now. He didn’t want to be in the press pit. He wanted to be at home. He wanted to go back to the hotel and Facetime with Marion and Sacha. He couldn’t believe how quickly the young boy was growing up and he couldn’t believe that in five months he would have had the precious boy in his life for a year. Things just didn’t feel real when he thought about that. Romain never believed he would love anyone else as much as he loved Marion but Sacha and his adorable mannerisms had proved that theory out of the water. It was an unconditional love. It was truly motivating.

But right now he was still waiting for some of the journalists to arrive. Natalie sent him a sympathetic look that made him almost want to turn around and leave. Twenty-first? He had qualified one place from the back of the grid and that driver was his teammate. His teammate he still wasn’t sure about. Romain hated it. At the end of last year he was on the podium, challenging for the win. And now? A mere four months later and he was struggling with a car that would probably do better in a scrap heap. He couldn’t stand how much and how quickly things had changed. It wasn’t fair.

“Romain, sorry to keep you waiting.” Natalie apologised as the red lights blinked on and the microphones were pointed in his direction. Romain waved off the apology, even though he wanted nothing more to flip out at them. He took a calming breath, waiting for the first question. “So, P21 isn’t really where you wanted to be starting the first race.”

“No.” Romain shrugged, not really knowing what else Natalie expected in response to that. One of the presenters snickered, probably thinking he’d spent too much time as Kimi’s teammate.

“What was the problem today?”

“There are lots of problems and issues we need to work out. The handling needs a lot of driver work and these are things we can only really improve on race weekends, which is unfortunate. Also these wet conditions did not help our campaign today. Is sad to see both Lotus’ at the back but that is the way it goes. I think it is safe to say for us and for the whole team we have a lot of work to do.”

“What is your opinion on Fernando Alonso and Mark Webber’s relationship and marriage?” Romain blinked stupidly in the direction of the new question. It was something he hadn’t been expecting. He sought out the reporter but the French guy was already pushing forwards. “Romain?”

“I, errh, I have no real-”

“-Lets not play the whole ‘I have no opinion game’ hmm?” The French reporter shot back. Romain frowned at him.

“Why would my opinion matter?” Romain retaliated. Natalie bit her lip nervously, not sure whether to end her interview there or continue holding her microphone to Romain.

“We want everyone’s opinion on it.” The French reporter insisted, holding his dictaphone closer to Romain. Romain folded his arms.

“I have no problem with it.” He shrugged casually. The guy frowned at him.

“Did you know this was going on before it was announced?” A Russian female reporter asked from the French guy’s left.

“No.” Romain said, still frowning at the French reporter. “Funnily enough last year I was focused on trying to win, just as I am this year.”

“Do you think homosexual athletes should be allowed to compete in sports?” The French reporter pushed.

“Fernando is one of the best drivers on the field.”

“Right?”

“So no. No problem here. I don’t know where this is all suddenly coming from; everyone was fine when Mark came out three years ago. None of this happened then.”

“What is your point?” The French guy asked. Romain narrowed his eyes.

“I have a funny feeling you have potentially got a personal vendetta against Fernando.”

“You’re wrong. I’m just doing my job.”

“It’s a shit one.” Romain scoffed.

“Did you have any idea that Mark had more feelings for Fernando? That his feelings were more than one for a friend?” The Russian reporter asked. Romain frowned deeper.

“How do you know it wasn’t the other way round? How do you know it wasn’t Fernando who liked Mark first? Or that is wasn’t mutual?”

“He was with Dasha.” The reporter said, her voice weakening a little. Romain raised an eyebrow at her.

“So?”

Walking away from that interview Romain feared he may have accidently started a rumour that would potentially keep this Mark/Fernando story going for a while. But he didn’t ponder on it for long. He was more focused on talking to his wife and child.

\- - - - -

Fifth wasn’t too bad. To be honest, with the Mercedes already looking like the team to beat, fifth wasn’t bad at all. Kimi had, unfortunately, spun out at the end of Q2 but that had, potentially, lead to Sebastian not making it into the top ten. And that was reason for celebration if there ever was one. Fernando believed that even if Kimi hadn’t have brought out the yellows Sebastian still wouldn’t have made it through to the top ten. It seemed Mark had left the team at the right time.

“I told you a Red Bull move would be stupid.” Mark smiled at him as they sat in the restaurant, eating dinner. Fernando kicked his shin under the table. “Ow! Hey!”

“Was never even looking to move. Am happy with Ferrari.” Fernando stressed. Mark pouted at him for effect.

“I know that. Why did you have to kick me?” Fernando cupped his cheek, laughing at his silly act.

“Because if you get rumours like this started at this early point in the season then it will be hell. We have enough pressure on us as it is, do not make this harder.”

“I wasn’t trying to.” Mar continued to pout. Fernando giggled at him.

“Know this, silly. Would just like a year where people respect the fact I have another two left in my contract and feel no need to move teams.” Mark nodded, dropping his act at Fernando’s genuine statement, linking their fingers when Fernando’s hand fell away from his face.

“I understand, bub.”

“Would like a stress-free year.” Fernando mused with a love struck expression. Mark looked over his shoulder at the table on the other side of the restaurant. He still couldn’t believe he was here. Of all the places he could have chosen to eat at tonight. Mark just shook his head.

“Something tells me that won’t be easy, mate.” Mark sighed sadly, kissing the back of Fernando’s hand. Fernando frowned a little but his eyes soon settled on the table Mark had looked at. A smirk spread into his cheeks that caught Mark off guard.

“Do you see his face today?” Fernando beamed. Mark couldn’t help but reiterate it.

“Some karma for the little shit.” Mark raised his glass of wine in a salute to his statement. “Lets have much more of that, eh?”

“If this is the karma he gets for what he does to us am writing a letter to the karma gods. Is not good enough.” Fernando vented. Mark rubbed soothing circles into the back of his hand.

“Well, a shit car is a little compensation.”

“True.” Fernando nodded, sipping on his water.

“Bit of a shit for Dan though…” Mark mused. Fernando frowned at him.

“How?”

“Well, getting a shit car coming into a four-time consecutively winning team. I’d be a little pissed.”

“Daniel starts on the front row tomorrow, qualified second.” Fernando pointed out. Mark just shrugged.

“Then maybe we get an Aussie on the podium tomorrow.” There was a hint of bitterness to Mark’s voice. A hint only Fernando would ever hear. And Fernando understood that. If Daniel went out tomorrow and did what Mark could never do with the team Mark had helped establish it was going to be a bitter pill to swallow. But Mark would never let anyone but Fernando know that. To the press he had to be supportive to Daniel. Not only was he his younger patriot but he had also taken his seat and Red Bull still sponsored Mark. And Mark was determined to be seen on Team Daniel, not Team Sebastian.

“Will be nice for Australia if you do.” Fernando soothed, showing with his eyes that he understood. Mark gave a subtle nod of thanks.

“Or a little Spanish lion.” Mark smirked. Fernando blushed a little.

“Maybe… Though am not so sure…”

“Not sure?” Mark frowned. Fernando shook his head as he started on his dinner.

“The car needs… Some work… We loose time on the straights to those with Mercedes engines.”

“Yeah but if anyone can do it it’s you, mate.” Mark smiled softly. Fernando just shrugged, chewing on his mouthful.

“We see tomorrow.”

“How is that supposed to help me right now?” Sebastian spat at Antti across the table. Sebastian was not happy with how Ok Antti was about the Fernando/Mark situation. He craved Heikki’s disapproval.

“You asked me to find something out for you, so there you go.” Antti exasperated. Sebastian slammed down his glass.

“All you’ve told me is that they were eating here and that Fernando got stressed out at the airport. Big whoop!” Sebastian seethed.

“If you don’t keep your voice down you will create a scene and attract their attention.” Antti returned in such a blasé manner Sebastian almost lost it there and then.

“They don’t care about me. They’re too caught up in each other.” He gritted. Sebastian and Antti looked over to Mark and Fernando’s table to see them talking to each other, holding hands. Fernando was smiling so genuinely Sebastian had to look away. More anger flowed through him as he took in Antti’s expression. He was almost awe stuck. Sebastian huffed noisily.

“What is it _now_?” Antti sighed in a frustrated manner. “Heikki said you’d be a handful.” He added in a mutter. Sebastian glared at him.

“Why are you Ok with this?” Sebastian barked for the hundredth time. Antti rolled his eyes.

“Are you in a bad mood because you’re starting thirteenth tomorrow?”

“That has nothing to do with anything.”

“So that’s a yes.” Antti nodded to himself, sipping on his drink.

“Tell me again what you heard in the airport.” Sebastian snarled through gritted teeth.

“Mark was trying to calm him down, he was freaking out about being bombarded by the press again. Just like in Jerez.”

“That doesn’t help. The press aren’t interested in that anymore. Ferrari muted it. That’s over.” Sebastian sulked, dropping his chin onto his crossed arms.

“Well, that’s how you’ll get him. Corner him without Mark so he’s alone. Then hit him with the press.” Sebastian frowned up at Antti who was still maintaining a nonchalant attitude. It reminded him heavily of Kimi. And how unhelpful Kimi could be sometimes.

“I don’t get you.” Sebastian seethed, falling back into his chair and folding his arms. His eyes fell on Fernando and Mark. “You look like you’re in love with them and then you give me ideas in how to break them apart.” Mark reached across the table and stroked the hair out of Fernando’s face causing the Spaniard to drop his head, blushing slightly. When Mark tilted his chin back up Sebastian had to look away.

“You asked me for help.”

“And when you were driving them to the hotel. What happened in the car?”

“What is it with you and disguises, Seb. Heikki mentioned something about it but wouldn’t elaborate.” Antti mused. Sebastian sent him a bored expression.

“How is that the answer to my question?” Antti rolled his eyes openly, gaining a huff from Seb.

“Mark calmed him down.” Sebastian looked back over to their table, grimacing at the way Fernando had moved his chair closer to Mark’s resting his head on his shoulder.

“Mark will be racing himself soon…” Sebastian mused. Antti raised an eyebrow at him.

“Right…?” Sebastian let the smirk pull at his lips.

“He can’t be in two places at once…”

It had completely unnerved Mark when Fernando and he walked in to the restaurant to see Sebastian and his new trainer sitting at another table. But that anxiety had vanished the moment he looked into Fernando’s eyes. Everything was fine, prefect even. However much Sebastian tried he couldn’t harm them. They were indestructible when they were together. If Sebastian targeted Fernando Mark would be there to catch him, and vice versa. But what really dropped the stone of dread into Mark’s stomach was the small wave Sebastian gifted him as Fernando and he left;

The look of triumph on his face.

\- - - - -

Britta was still unsure of his motives; he had wanted the press conference this morning. He had asked the press to show and agreed only to talk about the Fernando and Mark story. Obviously, with Sebastian having been Mark’s teammate, the press were more than accommodating to his request. But Britta still didn’t understand. She stood just off to the side with her arms folded, frowning at her driver.

“So, Sebastian, how do you want us to do this? Are you going to provide a statement?” Lee McKenzie asked from the front row. Sebastian just smiled at her.

“I think I can answer your questions much easier if you ask me.” Sebastian nodded, his eyes falling on the French reporter. He dipped his head, scribbling something in his notepad.

“Jenson Button accused you of posting the photos of Fernando and Mark’s wedding during the Jerez testing…” Natalie started. Sebastian scoffed at her.

“You don’t honestly think I would do this?” Sebastian said preposterously. Natalie exchanged an awkward glance with Lee.

“Well… Some could say you have a clear motive… Maybe…”

“And what would they be?”

“Well, the friction between the two of you since 2010 is common knowledge.” Another reporter chimed in. Sebastian frowned at them.

“Let’s set this straight now: I don’t hate Mark. I’ve got nothing against him. If he wanted to marry Fernando then who am I to try and stop them? I didn’t do this. I wasn’t even there! I don’t know where Jenson got that idea from but it was a rash comment… And the guilty are normally quick to defend.”

“But Fernando said it definitely wasn’t Jenson.” Natalie pressed. Sebastian folded his arms.

“You’ve got no idea what goes on behind closed door in this place. Deals are made and broken all the time. Things you call ‘dubious moves’ on track are normally the result of someone letting something slip or as a punishment for something…”

“So you’re saying Jenson Button posted the pictures around the paddock?” Lee questioned, thinking it was the most ridiculous thing to suggest ever.

“I can’t see who else would have done it to them. Whoever did would have had to have been there to get hold of the images…”

“But where is his motive?”

“You’d have to ask him.” An awkward silence settled in the room.

“Do you…” The Russian reporter cleared her throat, looking up at Sebastian. He gave her an encouraging look. “Do you know when the relation… Their relationship started?” She asked timidly. Sebastian feigned thinking about it.

“I’m not sure on the specifics…. But I know Fernando’s ex-girlfriend Dasha wasn’t in Abu Dhabi and they were very close then. For what I’ve witnessed I can guess it started during the Indian Grand Prix, but really it could have been before that.”

“You think something was going on before that?” Natalie asked with a small frown. Sebastian nodded.

“Ever since Mark’s announcement to leave the sport in Silverstone he was in the Ferrari garages and motorhome a lot. If he hadn’t have said he was leaving everyone would have assumed that he was making the move.” Sebastian joked.

“So you think this has potentially been going on since the British Grand Prix last year?” Natalie asked, slightly gobsmacked. Sebastian just shrugged.

“Hey, something made him decide he suddenly didn’t want to be in Formula One anymore.” Sebastian shrugged. “Maybe Fernando and he decided that they wanted to get married and knew it would never work if they were both big in the public eye. I don’t know. They’ve been very close friends for years. I remember times where Mark would be late to team briefings or meetings because he’d got caught up with Fernando.”

“So what is it exactly that you’re saying?” Lee asked, feeling slightly lost with Sebastian’s comments.

“Mark came out in 2010, Fernando got divorced around that time…” Sebastian let his comment hang until the implications of his words dawned on the journalist’s faces.

“Can we just get that in a statement?” The French reporter asked. Sebastian shrugged.

“From what I’ve seen I’m pretty sure this has been going on since, at the latest, beginning of 2011. But again, and sorry to keep doing this, they’ve known each other since 2003. Mark came out but Fernando didn’t. So maybe this relationship has been lasting even longer than that. Maybe it was an affair through Fernando’s marriage and Mark’s supposed relationship with Ann.”

“But you are just guessing all this. None of it has any evidence.” The Russian reporter snapped. Sebastian frowned at her.

“I could go into evidence.” He nodded. “If you think about how close the public have seen them times that by ten and you’ve got them behind closed doors for ages. I remember seeing Fernando in Milton Keynes back in 2008. That was confusing but I guess now it makes sense.”

“Wait, Fernando visited Red Bull in 2008?” Natalie asked. Sebastian nodded.

“The rumour last year that he was moving to Red Bull, that he had been seen talking with Red Bull people? Yeah, that was just him getting caught trying to sneak away after he’d been to see Mark. Apparently Christian and Stefano and some of the other teams personal were helping them out – generating a cover story. You’ll remember that Fernando never really confirmed nothing was going on at Red Bull, not until the end of the year. That’s because he knew if he could keep the story open he could see Mark more. It wouldn’t be so sus.”

“So what does this mean for his relationship with Dasha Kapustina?” The French reporter asked.

“What relationship?” Sebastian scoffed. “I think it’s safe to say that was a cover up. With them almost being exposed in 2010 I guess they came up with a plan to fool the public again. And I suppose you can assume the same with his marriage. That was a ruse. I think that they were planning on coming out together in 2010 but Fernando backed down, couldn’t deal with it. He’s very like that. The public don’t see it but he isn’t really up for a fight or for standing up for what he loves-likes. He’d prefer to hide behind his fake social profile and I guess that meant Mark got the back seat. I don’t know how Mark puts up with it. He’s created a very false account of himself to the public and that’s what makes me more confident that both his relationship with Raquel and Dasha were cover ups.”

“How do you think homosexual athletes should be treated in sports?” The French reporter asked. Sebastian puled an uncomfortable expression.

“Well… I never had any issues racing alongside Mark…Apart from… No, I really shouldn’t say that…”

“Say what?” An Australian reporter asked with a frown. Sebastian bit his lip uncomfortably. It was all an act but he managed to grab their attention enough to place another lie on the line. He sent Britta a pained look but she just shrugged at him.

“Can I have another question please?” Sebastian asked in a quiet voice. The man sitting next to the Australian reporter raised his hand. Sebastian nodded at him.

“What is it you shouldn’t really say?” He asked. Another Australian reporter; they were probably from the same publication. Sebastian bit back his smile.

“Well… Turkey, 2010… Shit, I really shouldn’t-” Sebastian bit his lip but it was clear he already had the journalists exactly where he wanted them. He exhaled deeply, looking sheepish. “The incident in Turkey 2010… I’d… I saw them… Together… I was just going to Mark’s room to ask about some data we had got in qualy and he was in there… I…” Sebastian swallowed forcibly. “I promised I wouldn’t say anything but Mark took me out of that race because I had caught them. He told me afterwards that it was a warning. He said… He said if I ever breathed a word of it to anyone else then he’d make it worse.” Sebastian dropped his head letting the stunned silence wash over him. It took all his strength not to let the smile onto his face. He got to his feet, wiping under his eyes for effect. “Sorry… I have to go now.”

The riot that followed him out of the room made him feel miles high. Flashes of cameras blinded him as questions were yelled and he was swamped. Britta tried to force her way through the crowd, dragging a distort looking Sebastian behind her but only when they got out of the media centre were they in the clear. Britta frowned at him all the way to the Red Bull motorhome as if waiting for an explanation. She didn’t get one. Part of the deal of getting into his conference was that no information given could be released to the public until Monday. Safely back in his cool down room Sebastian let the smile spread across his face.

He may be starting 13th today, but come Monday Fernando and Mark would be swamped with potential hate. And, whatever the result today, that fact made Sebastian very happy.

\- - - - -

Mark frowned at her as she shuffled on her feet, her eyes flitting around the room evidently trying to find a place to sit. It wasn’t a big cafeteria in the TEN Sports media tent but she still had lots of options. Obviously she was relatively new to this job. Though Mark wouldn’t have said that yesterday; she had simply waltz up to Sebastian and got her questions asked. The small piece she had put together on Maldonado’s qualifying was excellent – Mark had seen it that morning. She didn’t act like someone new to the job, but right now her actions were screaming it.

“Mark?” Fernando asked, waving his hand in front of Mark’s face. Mark snapped his attention back to Fernando.

“Sorry, mate.” Mark muttered, taking his hand from the table and kissing the back of it in apology. “What were you saying?” But Fernando has already looked over his shoulder for what had distracted Mark.

“Who is she?” Fernando asked, digging his folk into his pasta in a blasé fashion. Mark scoffed at him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Fernando.” Mark carried on with his own food. Fernando folded his arms.

“Am not being.” He pouted. Mark raised an eyebrow at him. “Where do you meet her?”

“Jealousy is not pretty on you, Nano.” Mark smiled. Fernando glared at him.

“Am not jealous.”

“You’d be right not to be. You’ve got nothing to worry about, mate; I’m completely yours.” Fernando would have believed him if he could hold his attention from the mystery girl for four seconds. She sat down on her own a couple of tables away from Fernando and Mark. Mark sent her a pained expression.

“She keeps looking at you.” Fernando pointed out. Mark openly rolled his eyes at Fernando’s stupidity.

“More likely looking at you, mate. You’re the Formula One star sitting in a press cafeteria.”

“Am in here to be with you. Everyone knows this. No exclusives.” Fernando said proudly.

“Right. But you are jealous?”

“Am not jealous, Mark.”

“So you wouldn’t care if I invited her over so she wasn’t sitting alone?” Mark challenged, a knowing look in his eyes. Fernando sat up straighter.

“Not at all.” He returned smoothly. Mark gave one sharp nod, getting to his feet.

“Good.” He pecked Fernando’s lips before moving over to Jai. She sent Fernando a nervous glance before nodding and following Mark back to the table. Fernando glared at Mark as he sat down with Jai beside him. Mark just winked at him.

“Thanks for, errh, letting me sit with you guys…” Jai muttered to her potatoes. Fernando continued to glare at Mark.

“No problem, Jai.” Mark smirked at Fernando. Jai sent a nervous glance between them.

“I didn’t want to intrude… Between you guys… errh…” Jai mumbled. Mark couldn’t help but laugh at Fernando.

“You’re not intruding.” Mark beamed. Fernando looked less impressed.

“Really?” Jai said sceptically, looking round at Mark. Mark just nodded, meeting her gaze.

“See, Fernando is trying to prove a point.” Mark explained. He turned his smirk back to Fernando. “But he’s failing.”

“So are new, yes, Jai?” Fernando said sweetly. Too sweetly. Mark laughed at him.

“I, errh-”

“-Just have not seen you in the paddock before.” Fernando smiled. Jai sent Mark a concerned look.

“Is he Ok?” She asked gently. Mark just laughed as he shook his head.

“He’s being stupid.”

“Am not, Mark. Is you making the silly assumptions.” Fernando huffed.

“And it’s you acting like a toddler throwing a tantrum.” Mark teased. Fernando got to his feet.

“If you are done taking the piss?” He spat. Mark placed another piece of pasta in his mouth, chewing slowing and holding Fernando’s intense gaze.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. Jai looked worried when Fernando stormed out of the cafeteria but Mark just laughed after his husband.

“What was that about?” Jai asked, confused. Mark just shook his head, still smiling brightly.

“Fernando’s just being a stubborn idiot. He’ll be alright.”

“Shouldn’t you go after him? He looked pretty mad…” Mark brushed her comment away.

“I’ll catch him later. Maybe he can realise how stupid he’s being.” Mark grinned. “So…” Jai forcibly swallowed her mouthful of food as Mark’s full attention landed on her.

“So?” She choked slightly, her eyes filling with water.

“You’re new around here then?”

“I guess.” Jai shrugged.

“Interesting to find a British reporter on an Australian broadcasting team.” Mark pointed out. Jai just nodded. “I would have thought you’d have tried Sky or the BBC.”

“I did for a couple of years. When I noticed that wasn’t getting me anywhere I decided to travel. I found myself out here a year ago and applied for the job on a whim. I’ve been based in Melbourne back in the office running the Formula One blog on the website. And now they’ve moved me into the field.” She smiled.

“Nice.” Mark said happily.

“Yeah, it’s good because I get to go to every race this year. And I really love the sport.”

“It’s a good sport to love.” Mark beamed. Jai seemed to be pondering something. “What?” Mark encouraged. Jai looked startled.

“Huh?”

“What were you wondering if you could ask?” Mark smirked, reading her expression like an open book.

“No, nothing.” She kept her eyes on her food.

“Obviously it’s about Fernando and me.” Mark nodded. Jai’s blush was incriminating enough. “Just ask.”

“It was just…. No, don’t worry.” She shook her head, looking back down at her food.

“Don’t be stupid.” Mark chuckled lightly. Jai looked up at him, seeing his genuine expression. “Just ask.”

“Well… There’s been a lot of speculation around the two of you, especially since all those pictures came out during testing-”

“-Yeah. I know the ones.” Mark said darkly. Jai swallowed nervously.

“I just thought, maybe, and only if you wanted to – please don’t feel pressured to-”

“-You just thought…?” Mark pushed, wanting to know what she was going to say. Jai sighed, turning to face Mark square on.

“I wanted to give you the opportunity to set the record straight.” Jai said, her voice shaking a little. Mark frowned at her.

“What do you mean?”

“I have a lot of questions I want answered and I’m sure both of your fans and the sport’s fans do to. I just wondered if you wanted the opportunity to give your side of things. Make sure everyone got the correct story rather than the escalation of rumours.”

“So what are you offering?” Mark asked seriously. Jai gained a little confidence in herself.

“I wanted to offer you an exclusive. We could do it through TEN sports or if you wanted to just publish it through your personal websites then I can just write you an article. Then, at least, people get the true account and not made up accounts or assumptions based on rumours.” Mark was taken back by the offer. He hadn’t really thought about retaliating to Sebastian’s revelation. But this seemed almost perfect. It would give Fernando and him the chance to set the record straight, give the information they wanted to give. Mark was already nodding to agree but Jai held her hands up to stop him. “Talk to Fernando first… He might want someone else to do it…” Jai added awkwardly. Mark got to his feet.

“It was nothing personal this morning. He was just being an idiot.” Mark stressed. Jai nodded but Mark wasn’t sure how true she thought his words were. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Great.” Jai smiled, feeling a ton weight lift off her shoulders. Mark got to his feet.

“Thank you, Jai.”

“You’re welcome.” She beamed back. Mark was nearly out the door when she spoke again. “It’s not right you know.” She called, biting her tongue as Mark turned around.

“What’s not?” He asked cautiously.

“That someone thought they could do that to you guys…” Mark just shrugged. “You know, if you know who did it-”

“-I don’t think I want to give them the satisfaction.” Mark sent back, a dark edge to his voice. Jai had her suspicions, but something in Mark’s voice had her believing she had got it right.

“You’re really sweet together.” She smiled. Mark loved it when someone gave him this reaction to his relationship with Fernando. It just reminded him that everything was right. “Perfect even.”

“He stops me doing stupid things and I try and do the same.” Mark nodded. “Though thus far it would look like I’m doing a shit job.”

“Just go and talk to him. I’m sure whatever it is will be fine.” Jai beamed. And her bright smile stayed on her face after Mark had left. It didn’t leave for a very long time because she had got a glimpse at the Mark Webber she wanted to interview: the one totally and completely head over heels in love with Fernando Alonso.

\- - -

“Walking alone?” Fernando rolled his eyes from behind his sunglasses as he continued down the paddock towards the Ferrari motorhome. “You should be careful without your body guard.” Sebastian sneered. Fernando turned to face him.

“Is clear am not the one who needs a body guard.” Fernando said casually, watching the frown spread on Sebastian’s face. Fernando moved his head slightly to the right so it looked like Fernando was looking over Sebastian’s shoulder. “Hello, Jenson.” Sebastian flinched away so fast it was a struggle for Fernando to keep the laughter inside. He walked away from the German, feeling like he had the upper hand.

“That’s not funny.”

“It is. Very.” Fernando disagreed. “Just shows you are not as strong as you think.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Sebastian asked, standing in front of Fernando so he couldn’t move forwards. Fernando just shrugged.

“Look at all you do, Sebastian. All you accomplish is making us stronger.”

“That’s not true; I’m in your head now.” Sebastian smirked. Fernando shook his head in a bamboozled manner.

“If you think so.” Fernando sighed. Sebastian dashed after him as Fernando moved away. Doing the only thing he could think of he dragged Fernando down the side of the Lotus motorhome. Fernando just stood in front of him with folded arms.

“I am in your head. You know you have to watch your back wherever you go.” Sebastian spat, getting annoyed at Fernando’s lack of response. Fernando pondered Sebastian’s words for a moment.

“Nope. Not true. I think is you who has to watch your back…” Fernando cast his eyes down the back of the motorhomes. “We are very close to McLaren here…”

“I am in your head and you know it!” Sebastian bit. Fernando smirked at him. Hot rage burnt through Sebastian as Fernando had the audacity to _smirk_ at him.

“Or maybe am in yours.” Fernando shrugged, making to move away. Sebastian had his collar tightly in his hands as he pushed Fernando against the wall of the McLaren motorhome in an instant. Fernando’s smirk intensified at the confusion, anger and panic in Sebastian’s eyes.

“You’re not in my head.” He spat.

“Think I am.” Fernando nodded.

“No. You’re not.”

“Think that you have to force yourself to look away from Mark and me because you don’t understand how it makes you feel.” Fernando purred, loving the fear that flickered through the German’s eyes. “When you see his hands on me I think it makes you wonder how strong hands would feel rather than delicate.”

“Y-You’re wrong.” Sebastian stammered. It was enough confirmation for Fernando to know he was right.

“Maybe you wonder what it feels like to be over powered by someone else. To give someone your body and let them explore it. Is a different kind of pleasure…” Fernando smirked as the small pant coming from Sebastian’s slightly parted lips. “Cannot get it from a woman.”

“You’re talking shit. You just like to be his little fuck toy because you-you’re weak.” Fernando just laughed at Sebastian’s pathetic jab. It was almost disgraceful.

“Is Ok, Sebastian. You are allowed to think about these things.” Fernando nodded in a sympathetic manner. “Am not sure you are allowed to try, not when you have a daughter now…”

“You’d love that wouldn’t you… A-A kid. And you can’t have it with your pathetic excuse of a husband. It makes me sick just thinking about it.” Sebastian snarled. Fernando laughed at him.

_Laughed at him._

“This is the thing, you do think. Are obsessed with us, Sebastian. I think you would like to try… Maybe Kimi?” Sebastian scoffed, pushing away from Fernando and folding his arms. Fernando tutted himself. “No, not Kimi… Definitely Finnish…” The smirk on the Spaniard’s lips made Sebastian most uncomfortable. “There is someone missing from your garage this year… Maybe this is why you only qualify thirteenth…” Fernando shrugged. Sebastian glared at him. No way. He was wrong. He didn’t feel like that about Heikki. He didn’t feel like that about any man. He was normal. Fernando and Mark were the strange ones. They were the ones who were wrong. They were-

“-You should sort yourself out before the race, _Sebi_. Could not have you distracted by your thoughts.” Fernando walked away, knowing Sebastian was still watching him. Mark frowned at him as he approached but Fernando didn’t stop to explain. He caught Mark’s cheek, threading one hand back into Mark’s hair and pulling him down for a passionate kiss. Mark was startled into it but as Fernando swept his tongue across Mark’s lower lip the Australian growled, dominating Fernando’s mouth. Fernando pushed his hand up the back of Mark’s shirt, knowing he was revealing his tanned back to Sebastian, knowing he was showing Sebastian the waistband of his Calvin Klein underwear. Showing the promise for more but not actually showing anything.

“Get a room you two.” Daniel poked as he passed them, heading towards Red Bull. Mark pulled away from Fernando, retorting a joke back to Daniel but Fernando’s eyes found Sebastian. Sebastian who was still frozen to the spot. Fernando smiled at him, pushing Mark’s hand down the back of his race suit to cup his arse as they disappeared into the Ferrari motorhome.

“What did you do?” Mark muttered quietly, following Fernando upstairs. There was a cocky air around the Spaniard that Mark hadn’t experienced properly since 2007. Fernando just shrugged, moving swiftly over to the window at the back of the motorhome to see Sebastian dash past towards the Red Bull motorhome. “Fernando?” Mark was starting to feel uneasy. His ex-teammates strange behaviour and Fernando’s almost joyous attitude. Fernando wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck, kissing his nose.

“Is nice to score points. Will look for some more in the race.” He beamed before disappearing to complete his pre-race rituals. Mark felt completely uneasy as he dashed over to Fernando’s room, the demand to know what had just happened resting ready on his lips.

\- - -

It was an odd feeling to walk up to the press pit and feel like the journalists were biting their tongues. It was normally the other way round. Daniel pushed the weird feeling away as he stood in front of them. Maybe it was because he had been disqualified. Maybe they wanted to ask about the podium and the feeling that came with it at his home Grand Prix but because, technically, that didn’t count anymore they didn’t want to push him. But Daniel wanted to share that feeling. He gave Natalie a small smile.

“So, Daniel, an emotional day for you today.” She said sympathetically. He nodded.

“Yeah, it’s been a bit rough. Shame that all that hard work has gone to nothing but that’s just the way it goes sometimes. We’ll definitely look into the fuel flow before Malaysia and make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“And with your teammate retiring as well, how did the car feel to you today?”

“Well, it’s a shame Seb retired but yeah, the car was good for me. Obviously she took me to the podium today so I must being doing something he isn’t. I’m sure Seb will get back to form again soon though – I’m not writing him off just yet.” Daniel smiled slightly.

“And even though your podium doesn’t count, it must be a pretty nice start to the season, especially with the horrid pre-season testing period you had.”

“Yeah, you don’t really get anything like it. Would have been better to hear my own tune but I’m sure I’ll get my chance.” His characteristic smile was growing brighter on his face. “It’s amazing to feel the support of your home fans and it was nice to get an Aussie up there for them; it’s been a while. Hopefully next year it can be the top step and it can count.” Daniel smiled. Natalie reiterated it.

“Thanks, Daniel.” Natalie said softly. Daniel nodded, expecting his interview to be over.

“What is your personal opinion on Mark Webber and Fernando Alonso’s relationship?” The French reporter asked. Daniel frowned at him.

“Hey?”

“Your personal opinion?”

“Two people finding their soul mate, what’s not to love?” Daniel scoffed, smiling at Natalie. It drifted off his face when she was looking uncomfortable.

“Do you not think Mark Webber is a slur to Australian sportsmen?” The French reporter asked again.

“A slur? Have you been smoking something funny, mate?” Daniel bit. Natalie was shocked at how aggressive Daniel was getting. She’d only ever seen the happy bubbly Daniel. The French reporter was not deterred.

“Is this right for children to be looking up to him? Surely you yourself are a better Australian role model.”

“Mark has done a lot in getting motorsport widely recognised in Australia. I think you’ve lost it.”

“Some would disagree with you-”

“-Like you? I’m done here. There is nothing wrong with what Mark and Fernando have. There is nothing wrong with Mark being a role model. He’s a cracking good one, mate; he’s still mine.” Daniel snapped before spinning on his heels and leaving the pit. He was more annoyed now than he was when they announced he had been disqualified. His press officer dashed after him but Daniel wasn’t listening. His eyes found Jean-Eric across the paddock being spoken to by his race engineer. Daniel hadn’t seen him for ages. It was crazy how close they were but how far away from each other they were. Jean-Eric caught his gaze and a frown slipped onto the Frenchman’s face.

“You Ok?” Jean-Eric mouthed over. Daniel pressed a forced smile onto his face, nodding, and moved into the Red Bull motorhome. But Jean-Eric continued to frown after him. He knew Daniel too well. Excusing himself from his race engineer he moved around the back of the Red Bull motorhome and went in the back, moving swiftly into Daniel’s cool down room. As soon as the door was closed Daniel’s arms were tightly around his waist. Jean-Eric lead him over to the sofa and allowed Daniel to curl into him, his hand automatically finding his hair and stroking through it soothingly.

“Is Ok, Dan. Is just one race…” Jean-Eric began to sooth. Daniel shook his head.

“It’s not that…” He sighed. Jean-Eric nodded knowingly. It was something Daniel had spoken to him a lot about over the winter break.

“Is the Mark thing?” Jean-Eric cooed. Daniel just nodded. “Well that is Ok to.”

Daniel had a terrible feeling it wasn’t.

\- - - -

He’d won, but that atmosphere wasn’t really around. Sure the team were happy and sure he was too but there was something off with the media. They weren’t their usual selves. Nico chatted animatedly to Natalie about his win, how he was happy to start the season in such a positive way, how the pace of the car and package Mercedes had produced was almost too good to be true and how they had to be careful reliability issues, like Lewis’, didn’t stop them from reaching their potential. But she was almost just nodding along, simply there as someone for him to direct his comments at. Nico didn’t understand one little bit.

“Thanks, Nico. And congratulations again on the win.” Natalie smiled a little. Nico opened his mouth to ask if something was wrong but another voice was heard.

“Nico, we’re trying to get all of the drivers opinions on Mark and Fernando’s relationship.” The French reporter called. Nico remembered him from pre-season testing. He remembered how much of a pain in the arse he had been to all the drivers. Lewis had told Nico that the guy had pretty much harassed him until he said what the reporter wanted him to say. Nico folded his arms cautiously.

“Ok…”

“So… What is your opinion?”

“I do not have a problem with it if that’s what you’re after.” Nico stated. The French reporter frowned at him.

“I’m not after anything.”

“But a story.” Nico shrugged. The reporter scowled at him.

“What is you’re opinion?”

“I knew you guys would try and do this.” Nico tutted. He frowned in an annoyed manner at them all. “Why can’t you just leave them alone? They’re in love and it’s beautiful. It shouldn’t and doesn’t matter that they’re both guys. Just let them live their lives, can’t you people find some other story down the paddock?”

“Nico, you raced with Mark in 2006 when you were both in Williams…” The Russian reporter asked timidly. Nico raised an eyebrow at her, trying to find the relevance.

“Yeah…?”

“Was he always… Close to Fernando?”

“They’ve always been close. Completely inseparable if one of them had a good race or a shit race.” Nico nodded. “I wasn’t really too surprised…”

“What?” Natalie asked, her eyes wide. Nico frowned deeper at her.

“Come on, if it was going to happen between any two drivers it was going to be those two.” Nico scoffed. But Natalie’s pale face completely threw him off.

“You mean to say you think this could have been going on since 2006?” The French reporter pressed, thrusting his dictaphone into Nico’s face. Natalie snapped her head round to glare at him so fast Nico thought she had broken it.

“I…”

“Thank you, Nico. Congratulations on your win.” Natalie gritted through her glare that was still burning into the French reporter.

“Nico, could we get some words on your observations of Mark and Fernando’s relationship whilst you raced with Mark in Williams?” The French guy almost pleaded. Nico gave him a deranged look.

“I think it’s time we moved on, Nico.” Georg muttered in his driver’s ear. Nico just nodded, moving swiftly from the press pit and towards the motorhome to change.

What on earth did he just start?

\- - - -

Mark wasn’t talking to him, and that was really starting to annoy him. The Australian had made that clear by making sure Fernando saw him walk away as he got out of the car. Fernando didn’t get it. They had got one over Sebastian _and_ Sebastian had retired, they should be laughing about the fact. But Mark had just stormed off. He would have followed Mark off into the crowd but he was swept away from press duties before he had time to mutter the word “wait”.

Fernando was already fed up by time he was dragged into the press pit. Roberta tried to scold him for his attitude but he just shrugged her off. What was there to be happy about? Mercedes had just shown how dominant they were with such a gap from the front and Mark was unexplainably pissed at him. Roberta scowled at him when he kept his sunglasses on even though there wasn’t too much need for them but Fernando ignored her, turning to Natalie with his thoughts still locked on Mark.

_\- So Fernando, tell us about the car today. How happy were you in the car? Did there feel like there was a problem? -_

_Well, I guess we all have problems today. Mercedes shows they have a strong car and now we all have to react to reduce this gap. The thing to look at today is that both Ferraris cross the line, so this is a good effort from the team. But as I say, the gap to the leader at the end of the race is thirty-five seconds so we now need to do something about this so it is better for Malaysia._

_\- And do you reckon that you can make the step forwards in two weeks time? -_

_We will see. Obviously I am just here to drive the car, I do not do the other things I do not build the units so we see and hope. But we are Ferrari, are a strong team; I trust these guys know what they are doing. Like I say before, after the first race you get a better… Idea of what needs improving, better picture of what we need to improve on the car – especially after running behind some of the other cars like I did with Hulkenberg for a few laps. The next step is to analyse the data we generate here and become stronger in Malaysia._

_\- And how is the paddock different now without your close friend- sorry, now husband, Mark Webber? -_

_I think, for sure, we see this better in Malaysia. He is obviously with TEN Sports this weekend so has been around. But it will be different._

_\- Maybe I’ll re-ask that in Malaysia then -_

_Maybe this is best._

_-Thanks, Fernando -_

All Fernando really wanted to do was go and crash in his cool down room; fall into Mark’s arms and claim that the Australian should carry him back to their hotel. But Roberta was loosing patience with him rapidly and was literally dragging him back across the pit to another circle of journalists. The questions went on, more of the same old boring recycled material he got asked at the beginning of every season: _How’s the car? What improvements are needed? Can you win the title this year? What’s the hope for Malaysia? What can we expect in the next race? What do you need to improve?_

His limbs were aching terribly when he was finally released and he found himself slouching back towards Ferrari. Mark would be in there. It was fine. He just needed to get to Mark and then he could sleep and not think about racing. They were planning on heading down to Queanbeyan for a few days after the race. Fernando was looking forwards to shutting off completely. Mark and he had found a small cottage on the beach a few miles from Mark’s parent’s house and he could already envisage the sun dancing off Mark’s bare torso, sparkling the water droplet that were stuck to his skin from his surfing session. Watching the sun soak into his body to give it a sun-brushed glow….

Fernando had to abruptly shove the thoughts from his mind. Now really wasn’t the right time to be thinking about it.

“Fernando?” The Spaniard turned to see the girl Mark had been teasing him about only that morning moving towards him timidly. Defensively his arms folded across his chest. He didn’t mean to be so harsh with Jai that morning: he just didn’t like the way she stole Mark’s attention earlier. But Mark was right; being jealous was stupid. He knew Mark would walk through hell and fire before he walked away from him and Fernando knew he himself felt the same. He relaxed a little.

“Yeah?” He returned casually. Jai worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I, errh…” She didn’t really want to pass on Mark’s message. She didn’t really understand it. But Mark had seemed pissed off earlier which was strange.

“I think I need to apologise.” Fernando said suddenly, causing Jai to frown.

“Huh?”

“About earlier. Was just a little stress about the race. Am sorry I was so rude.” Fernando nodded gently. Jai blushed.

“That’s Ok, don’t-”

“-No. I should not have been so cold with you. Am sorry. Mark just….” Fernando let his voice fade of but Jai was already beaming at him. The small smile that crept onto his face made her heart sing joyously.

“Mark just…?” She encouraged. But Fernando shook his head.

“Why did you want me?”

“Mark… Errh…” Jai’s confidence fell to the floor as the small frown appeared on Fernando’s face.

“Mark what? What is happening with Mark?” The panic began to rise in his voice. Jai placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Nothing… He’s fine… Great even… He just wanted me to tell you he finished early so he’d see you back at the hotel.” Jai muttered, hiding the distain that was in Mark’s voice when he asked her to pass the message on to Fernando. But Fernando seemed to read it anyway. His posture deflated and it broke Jai’s heart to see.

“Oh… Ok… Thanks…” Fernando’s head was clearly already somewhere else. Without really thinking about it Jai threw her arms around Fernando. Fernando stood froze, not really sure what to do. “Errh…”

“It will be Ok.” Jai muttered, potentially more to herself. Fernando tentatively brought his arms around her.

“Yes, of course…” Fernando returned cautiously. Jai smiled weakly at him as she moved away.

“I’ll see you in Malaysia then.”

“I guess you will.” Fernando smiled back and with that she had disappeared into the crowd.

Fernando changed at a record-breaking speed, desperate to get to Mark and work out what the hell was going on. He thought the Australian would be happy they had something over Sebastian, but apparently Mark had taken things in the complete opposite way.


	43. Provisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Education is the best provision for old age.”  
> ~ Aristotle ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #ForzaJules  
> \- - - - - - - - - -

“Mark?” Fernando called, slamming the door behind him and dropping his bag instantly. His eyes darted around the room but still his husband was nowhere to be seen. Fernando frowned deeper, moving towards the bathroom. “Mark, please?” He knocked, but when there was no reply he entered the room. Empty. Mark wasn’t there either. Fernando was starting to panic, his mind rushing to worst-case scenarios as his head ran with the last words he had heard before he left the track.

_“Going home alone?”_

_“Fuck off, Sebastian.”_

_“Hostile,” The German observed, falling into step beside the Spaniard. “No all perfect in paradise?”_

_“At least I finish the race.” Fernando gritted, storming towards his car. Sebastian just laughed._

_“Low blow, Fernando. At least try a bit better than that.”_

_“Am leaving.”_

_“Chasing after Mark?” Sebastian taunted as Fernando opened his car door. Fernando frowned at him. “I saw him leaving here earlier… Did not look happy.”_

“Mark is not funny any more!” Fernando barked as he slammed the balcony door shut. Mark wasn’t out there either. Fernando was finding it difficult not to think of the worst; he was running out of rooms.

_“Like you would know.” Fernando muttered quietly, climbing into his car. Sebastian caught the door before Fernando could shut it._

_“I would actually.”_

_“Did you sort yourself out earlier?” Fernando bit pathetically. Sebastian smirked at him._

_“Looks like that all back fired on you, eh? Mark didn’t seem pretty happy about your actions… Maybe he doesn’t_ just _have feelings for you, Fernando. Maybe he’s bored of you. What has it been, five months? Geez, I’m surprised you’ve lasted that long.”_

_“Goodbye, Sebastian.”_

“Mark…” Fernando pleaded, sinking to the floor in the doorway of their bedroom. Vacant. Mark wasn’t there. Fernando could feel the tears fighting up his throat as he clutched his arms around himself tightly, trying to force the words away. But they kept coming, pulling the tears down his face as they did.

_“You know, there were other guys before you.” Sebastian pressed as Fernando shoved him away from the car. “It’s more than likely there will be more after!”_

_“Do not know anything!” Fernando snapped. Sebastian let the smirk set on his face; that was what he was after._

_“You don’t know that. I was his teammate for five years. Five years is longer than five months...”_

_“Are friends then. We’re... Were close before.”_

_“But how close were you really?”_

“Fernando?” Fernando gasped, trying to calm his breathing. But it was to no use. Strong arms lifted him to his feet and ushered him towards the bed as delicate lips found his neck. Mark pulled him close, not forcing Fernando’s arms to take hold of him but just waiting for the Spaniard to curl into him. It took longer than usual which concerned the Australian. “Shh… It’s Ok…”

“W-Where you go…?” Fernando breathed, his grip tight in the front of Mark’s shirt as he buried himself in the curve of his shoulder. Mark rubbed his back soothingly, rocking them ever so slightly.

“I needed a drink. I was downstairs. I sent you a message.” Mark muttered gently, breaking each phrase with a chaste kiss to some part of Fernando’s face. Fernando sniffed, trying to get ever closer to Mark.

“Why did-did you n-not wait… For me…?”

“What happened?” Mark suddenly tensed, causing Fernando to hold him tighter.

“N-nothing…”

“Fernando.” Mark said darkly. Fernando shook his head.

“Do not leave me again.”

“What happened? Did Sebastian find you?” Mark asked but Fernando refused to answer, just burying deeper into the Australian’s hold. “What did he say to you?”

“Why did you leave me at the track alone?”

“Fernando, we tell each other these things. Tell me what he said.” Fernando suddenly sat up, drying his eyes messily and pushing away from Mark.

“Nothing happened!” Fernando spat. Mark cocked an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “Would know this if had not abandoned me!”

“Abandoned you?” Mark frowned.

“Leave me at the track! How do you get back here?”

“Jenson gave me a lift.” Mark said, getting to his feet. “And I was annoyed at you. I still am.”

“So this means are allowed to just leave me stranded? Very mature.” Fernando snaked, storming through towards the main area of the hotel room. Mark was hot on his heels.

“I left you the car, mate.”

“Yes, this was exactly what I wanted to find after the race.” Fernando threw the minibar fridge open. “The car was so compassionate about my poor race result.”

“I am annoyed at you.” Mark repeated, stressing each word.

“Grow up.” Fernando fired, slamming the door shut and placing the five little bottles of spirits on the table.

“Me grow up? But you’re about to drink yourself into a mess?”

“If you are allowed then so am I.” Fernando shrugged aggressively, breaking the seal on the first bottle. Mark scooped the other four into his hands. “Hey!”

“Don’t be anymore of a twat today, Fernando, please.”

“Do not get you! Am only giving him a taste of his own medicine!”

“You _are_? Wait, does this mean you’re going to do it again?” Mark glared. Fernando snatched the bottles back.

“Maybe.”

“Can you get the fuck out of here, _Sebastian_ , I’m looking for my husband!”

“Please! He does the same to us all of the time!”

“So you’re stooping to his level now?”

“Am levelling the playing field!”

“Can you even here yourself right now, mate? You fucking sound like him!”

“Are you not the one who changes his iPod last year? For sure are sounding hypocritical now.”

“For fuck sake, Fernando. That was a stupid prank that I even apologised for. You’re trying to fuck with his head!”

“He deserves it…”

“For what reason? Should he be showing you more respect?” Mark spat hotly. Fernando frowned at him.

“What does this even mean?”

“You fucking know what it means, Fernando, don’t act coy.”

“Am not sorry about what I did.” Fernando assured. Mark’s glare intensified.

“Then don’t expect me to stick around you for very long, Sebastian.” Fernando winced at Mark’s choice of words; the German’s taunts fluttering through his head.  “If you’re not going anywhere I’m out of here.”

“Are being ridiculous, Mark!” Fernando pleaded as the Australian headed for the door. “He would do this to us! Does this to us!”

“So rather than being the bigger person you’ve decided to stoop to his level? What next? Are you going to leak pictures of his daughter everywhere?”

“Do not be fucking stupid, Mark.”

“Well? Isn’t that basically what he did? And now you’re on the same level-”

“-Would never do anything like this and you know it!” Fernando barked. Mark folded his arms.

“Then what do you want from me? To accept you’re going to be fighting back with mind games all year?”

“Will not let him walk all over me, Mark. Nor will I let him think he is or can!”

“I don’t like this ‘Fernando’. You’re only going to make him come back with something else! He’s been playing this game with me for five fucking years. You can’t win!”

“Cannot believe this.” Fernando scoffed. Mark narrowed his eyes at his husband.

“You think you can beat him where I couldn’t?”

“Is not what am saying.” Fernando said too quickly to not be defensive. It was clear evidence Mark was right.

“You are! That’s exactly what you’re saying!”

“Where are you going now, Mark!” Fernando tried grabbing for the Australian’s wrist but he got the door open just before Fernando could gain purchase.

“Anywhere but here.” Mark snarled, storming down the corridor.

“MARK!” Fernando cried, sinking back to the floor. His knees gave under him as he tried to stable himself against the doorframe. Mark forced himself not to react to Fernando’s broken call. It killed him with every step he took away from his husband but he couldn’t be around Fernando if he was going down this path. It was dragging Sebastian’s mind-set into their marriage and Mark couldn’t agree with it. He needed Fernando’s to understand but the Spaniard was too heated to listen.

Fernando sobbed into his arms, trying to work out at what point he had done this wrong. He was certain Mark would agree with him. Sebastian was getting a taste of his own medicine, right? That was all Fernando was aiming for. But as he cried it set in. Just how did that look from the outside? Smug, triumphant, gleeful to cause another pain? Wasn’t that everything Sebastian did? Suddenly Fernando found he couldn’t argue with Mark anymore. They needed to find another way, together, to show Sebastian he wasn’t winning. They were stronger together, better together. That was all Fernando needed.

“Mark?” His whimpered, drying his eyes and getting shakily to his feet. He wasn’t surprised to see the Australian had disappeared. But he would find him. They were stronger together. Fernando needed Mark. Taking a deep breath he took a step towards the stairs.

“Told you he was bored of you.”

Fernando fled back into Mark and his room, slamming the door shut behind him. But he wasn’t quick enough. The door bounced back open, ricocheting off Sebastian’s foot.

\- - -

“Mark, go back upstairs.” Jenson sighed as the Australian made his way back towards him.

“He’s not listening, mate. He’s being a fucking twat.”

“He’s confused, scared and hurt.” Jenson repeated, just as he had before Mark left to go up to his room a little while ago.

“He’s being a dick. It’s as bad as what Seb is doing.”

“Bit harsh?” Jenson frowned, sliding a beer over to Mark. Mark lifted the frothy liquid to his lips.

“You don’t know what he’s done.”

“Said some shit to Seb. Good on him. The German prick deserves it.”

“Jenson-” Mark tried to warn but Jenson spoke over him.

“-He does, Mark. If he thinks he can do that to you guys and get away with it-”

“-We’re not talking about that anymore, remember?” Mark pressed. Jenson rolled his eyes before sipping on his own half-empty beer. “What are you even still doing here?”

“Vivian text me and asked if I could make sure Nico is still alive tomorrow morning.” Jenson explained, turning in his chair so he was facing the entrance. Mark couldn’t help but smile.

“I bet Jessy is really happy about this.”

“Jessy is home.” Jenson shrugged, taking another drink. Mark copied his action. “But your wife isn’t so get back up there and sort him out.”

“I’m not sure Fernando would take kindly to you referring to him as my wife.” Mark poked. Jenson just sent him a bored look. The Australian sighed dramatically, putting his beer down. “Look, if he thinks this is the best way to deal with it I can’t be with him.”

“You’re over reacting and you don’t mean that.” Jenson pointed out. “That’s the third time you’ve checked your phone, Mark.” Mark shot his hand away from his pocket, trying to subtly feel out for a vibration. “Get back upstairs and talk about this.”

“He’s too upset. He’s not even listening to me.”

“Then make him.”

“Just tried that, mate. Now I’m back down here.”

“Coward.” Jenson muttered, sipping on his beer. Mark sent him a shocked look.

“Excuse me?”

“Problems don’t get sorted if you run, they just chase after you.” Jenson continued.

“So you’re calling me a coward now, mate? Accusing me from running away from my problems?”

“Aren’t you?” Jenson shrugged. Mark got to his feet.

“I don’t have to stand here and listen to this.”

“No. Go back upstairs to your husband.” Jenson nodded. Mark narrowed his eyes.

“Are you playing games?”

“Nope. I’m stating facts.”

“So you really think I’m a coward?”

“When Fernando ‘left’ you in Brazil what’s the first thing you did?”

“Jenson, this is-”

“-First thing?”

“… Called Annie.”

“And then?” Mark rolled his eyes.

“Got on a plane.”

“Thus running from the problems.” Jenson nodded. “And did they go away?”

“I’m not a fucking student, Jense, don’t get patronising.” Mark bit, draining his beer glass.

“And what did Fernando do? He went to Sebastian and destroyed the evidence.”

“For selfish reasons.” Mark added. Jenson shook his head.

“He resolved himself of one of his problems: Sebastian. He knew getting rid of that evidence meant Sebastian couldn’t do anything else to you.”

“Or him.”

“Stop deliberately missing the point.” Jenson said as Mark slammed his glass down. “Go back upstairs and fix this. If you don’t he’ll text you. I bet you a tenner.”

“What?”

“He’ll want to sort this. And if you don’t go back up soon he’ll text you to get you to go back up so _he_ can resolve this problem.”

“Whatever.” Mark stated in a humouring tone. Jenson rolled his eyes as Mark settled with a second beer. He was halfway down, curling it close to himself and looking sorrowful, when he suddenly jumped back, his hand diving into his pocket. Jenson let a smug smile fall onto his lips as he sipped carefully on the golden liquid. It was only once he finished swallowing that Mark got to his feet, pressing a tenner into Jenson’s hand. The Brit couldn’t help but laugh as Mark moved away from him, back towards the lifts.

\- - -

“Clever.” Sebastian smiled as he tried, yet again, to get into the bedroom that Fernando had dashed into. “Is there a chair in the way or have you got a lock?”

“Get out.” Fernando called through the wooden door. Sebastian just smirked at him.

“No… I think I’m going to stay here until you admit I’m right.” Sebastian rested his palm on the door, listening intently for any sound of movement from inside.

“Mark will come back.”

“As, per usual, you need him to fight your battles for you because you’re weak.” Sebastian shrugged casually.

“Am not.”

“Says the man hiding behind a door.” Sebastian paused, waiting for the retort. Nothing came. “What happened to your gusto from earlier? You definitely tried to set me in my place. Shame you failed.”

“Just like your car.”

“See, that’s still pathetic but at least you’re admitting you failed.” Inside the room Fernando chastened himself, clutching his phone tightly and praying Mark would be on his way up. He looked down at the message he sent. _Am sorry – was wrong. Please come back so we can sort this. Hate you being mad at me… Makes you sad which makes me sad xxxxxxxxxxx_ “Not talking to me anymore?”

“Mark is on his way.” Fernando repeated. Sebastian smiled to himself, sitting with his back pressed against the door.

“He’s not. He’s with Jenson.” Antti had already let him know. “They’re drinking together, and you know where that lead you last year in India…”

 _That was not the drink._ “Jenson is with Jessica.”

“And Mark is with you. That’s why they call it cheating.” Sebastian pointed out. Fernando clutched at his throat. No. Mark wouldn’t do that to him.

“Mark will be back soon.”

“Yeah, once he’s done with Jenson…” Fernando muttered something Sebastian didn’t quite catch. “Sorry?”

“Shut up.” Fernando said slightly louder. But his voice wavered. Sebastian smiled brightly, knowing he had Fernando emotionally on the edge.

“And anyway, even if he’s not fucking Jenson he’s definitely looking around.”

“Shut up.” Fernando repeated. Sebastian moved onto his knees, pressing his ear against the door.

“He’s in a whole new discipline, Fernando. Loads more men to look at.”

“Are sounding very calm about it. How will you explain these new feelings and new obsessions to Hanna and your child?”

“Ahh, Fernando.” Sebastian sighed pitifully. “You tried this one earlier and it didn’t work. I love Hanna. I’m confident enough about it to say it.”

“And what are you implying now?”

“Well… On social media it’s always been you, no? Mark’s never declared it to the public.” Fernando looked up from the sending message to frown at the door.

“That is not a point.”

“He’s looking elsewhere! He’s bored of you, Fernando. Otherwise he would do it too, no? Obviously your relationship has run its course for him… Huh… Sad really… You should have stayed with Dasha…” Fernando almost dropped his phone as it vibrated with a message. He gripped the device like a lifeline.

_Little shit! How the fuck did he get in? Hold tight – I’m in the lift._

Little did he know Sebastian had also received a message from Antti telling the German Mark was on his way up.

“Still not talking because you know I’m right?” Sebastian sneered as he locked his phone and pushed it in his pocket.

“Are talking shit, Sebastian.”

“But think about how much simpler it could have been to stay with her.” Sebastian knew he was on stolen time now. Any moment Mark was going to burst through the door. “You could have a kid on the way-”

“-A child that is yours.” Fernando spat. Sebastian shook his head.

“No doubt, no questions, undivided love and support.”

“Is this why you are doing this? Trying to get me back to her?”

“No, frankly I couldn’t give a shit. I’m just making sure you’re aware that this thing you’ve got with Mark is at it’s end.”

“Because you would know exactly what you’re talking about, wouldn’t you Sebastian.” The German jumped, snapping his head round to take in Mark standing over him, jaw tightly locked and arms folded unbreakably. Sebastian got to his feet, regaining his composure.

“I’ve got a good idea of how you work.” He shrugged. Mark pushed passed him, pulling on the door handle. “Yeah, he locked that ages ago.”

“Get the fuck out of here before I force you out, Seb.” Mark gritted, his palm pressed tightly into the wood as if trying to reach Fernando through it.

“Hear that, Fernando? He’s not even telling you I’m wrong!” Sebastian barked through a laugh. He eyed Mark disgustedly. “You’re both a fucking joke.”

“Get the fuck out of here unless you want another black eye.” Mark threatened, knowing Fernando wouldn’t open the door until he knew Sebastian had gone.

“Still not defending him. It’s because he doesn’t love you anymore, Fernando. Well, no – strictly speaking he never did-”

“-Seb-!”

“-You were just a bit of fun for him-!” Sebastian’s voice was cut off as Mark rammed him against the wall. With hot anger in his eyes the Australian dragged him out the room, tossing him out into the corridor like a bag of rubbish. Antti was almost knocked to the floor as he caught Sebastian. He opened his mouth, confused, but Mark just slammed the door in their faces.

“Fernando, open the door please.” Mark said gently, running his hand down the wood. Nothing happened. Mark let his forehead thump against the door. “Fernando please... Don’t fucking listen to him. By doing that you’re just giving him what he wants…” A few moments later Fernando unlocked the door, but he didn’t open it. Mark pulled on the handle to find Fernando curled on the edge of the bed, his knees tucked close to his chest.

He didn’t hesitate in stroking the hair back off Fernando’s face, cupping his cheek and bringing their lips together. Fernando tried to turn away but Mark held him tighter. Pushing soft kisses into every available section of Fernando’s face he slowly untangled the Spaniard’s arms, wrapping them around his own waist so he could get closer to his husband. Fernando’s tears pressed into Mark’s cheeks as Mark gently cupped the Spaniard’s neck, bringing their lips back together. Three times Fernando tried to push away but Mark held him close, waiting for the inevitable moment when Fernando melted into him. The Australian cradled him close as he laid them both back on the bed.

“I love you.” Mark whispered, setting the words into Fernando’s skin with a kiss. “I have always loved you.”

“He says these things earlier too…” Fernando admitted, snuggling closer to Mark. Mark felt the guilt rush through him.

“Before you left the track.” It was a question but Mark already knew the answer. Fernando nodded against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Fer-”

“-Is not your fault.” Fernando almost laughed, still holding Mark tightly.

“It is. I should have stayed with you. None of this would have happened.”

“Would have only said these thing in Malaysia. And then would have not have had you to reassure me is wrong.” Fernando pointed out. Mark hated the fact that was true. Because that meant Fernando was open for attack in Malaysia. There would be no way Mark could stop Sebastian.

“I’m coming with you.” Mark said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence surrounding them. Fernando blinked himself awake, not sure if he had heard Mark right in his dozing state.

“Huh?”

“To Malaysia. I’m coming with you.”

“No, Mark. Have your Porsche thing.” Fernando said, rubbing soothing circles into Mark’s chest. But the Australian was already shaking his head.

“The team can do without me for one week. I want to be with you. You need me.”

“Do not make me sound weak, Mark, please…”

“No, that’s not what I meant…. I need to know I’m there if you need me.” Mark amended, kissing Fernando’s forehead. Fernando snuggled closer to him.

“Want you to do your Porsche thing…”

“Fernando-”

“-Will be able to call you if I absolutely need to.” Fernando assured, sitting up a little so he could look Mark in the eye. Mark raised an eyebrow at him.

“And you promise me that you will call and tell me anything? Even if you think it’s stupid?” Fernando smiled gently at him.

“Promise, Mark.” Fernando sealed his vowel with a kiss. “Need you to get used to your championship-winning car. One of us has to do it this year.”

“Probably be you, mate.” Mark yawned, pulling Fernando back down close to him. Fernando bit his lip.

“Do not think so. Believe you have the better chance.”

“We will see…”

-

It was much later that night when Mark did it. Fernando and he had got ready for bed and the Spaniard had fallen asleep on him almost as soon as his head was on his chest. Mark rolled him closer so his back was facing the ceiling, only the top of his tattoo showing from behind the covers. Without thinking twice Mark reached for his phone, saving the picture forever. He smiled at the screen, loving how much the picture meant to him. How much it was going to get him through the hard weeks where he was finally separated from the man he loved with his entire being. But it would be fine. Mark would be able to bear it. Because he knew, however long they were apart, they would always end up back together. Mark smiled to himself, curling closer to Fernando.

“Mark…?”

“Go back to sleep, Fer.” Mark kissed gently into Fernando’s forehead. Fernando moved an arm between them, rubbing at his tired eyes.

“You take a photo…”

“I turned the flash off, didn’t I?” Mark frowned, looking at the device in his hand.

“Letmesee…” Fernando yawned, blinking his eyes open. Mark placed the device in his hand and watched the love filled expression burst onto Fernando’s sleepy face. “I love it…”

“You can have a copy if you want?” Fernando nodded, his fingers dancing over Mark’s screen. Mark frowned, tilting the device towards himself a little. “What are you doing?”

“Again.” Fernando smiled gently, snuggling closer to Mark and holding the phone aloft. He captured them both in the small frame but Mark wrapped his arms tightly around Fernando’s bare torso and encouraged the Spaniard to take another.

“I love you, Fernando.” Mark whispered again, still getting that warm buzz of feeling every time he said those three words to Fernando. Fernando turned until they were face to face before pressing his lips to Mark’s.

“Te amo siempre…” Fernando smiled sleepily, handing Mark’s phone back before getting comfortable again. Mark pulled him closer as he looked through the three photos Fernando just took. The one of their kiss at the end had Mark nuzzling at Fernando, encouraging him back for one last kiss before he released him to the world of dreams. Once he was sure Fernando was asleep, he selected the second image – the one where his arms were around Fernando – and opened up twitter. This was something that meant so much to Fernando; Mark wanted to show him he understood. Pushing the ball of nerves low in his stomach he posted the tweet, fuelled by the loving expression Fernando would gift him in the morning when he awoke to it. Switching off his phone Mark curled closer to Fernando, burying his nose deep in his over-grown hair and reflecting on how lucky he was to have his soul mate safe in his arms. He promised personally to never let Fernando come to any harm ever again.

_@AussieGrit: @alo_oficial You are my light in the dark, Fernando, and you will show me the way through out next great adventure with my hand tightly around yours. Te amo siempre <3_

\- - -

When Mark woke up the light was already pouring into the room. He winched against the brightness, reaching blindly for Fernando. But he wasn’t there. The bed was empty. Mark simply assumed he had gone for a jog or something as he swung his legs off the bed, pushing his toes deep into the carpet. He rubbed at his tired eyes as one hand sought out his phone. He left the device turning on as he moved into the bathroom.

Much to his unsurprised, Fernando had stuck a post-it to the bathroom mirror explaining he had gone for a jog, with a small jab about WEC drivers not needing jogs but sleep, and would be back by eight so they could order room service for breakfast and eat it out on the balcony. Mark loved how much detail Fernando had crammed into the little note. It was as if Fernando was desperate to tell him everything even though he wasn’t there. So very Fernando it had Mark grinning like an idiot at his reflection. He brushed his teeth methodically, checking the time and realising he only had ten minutes before Fernando got back.

Returning to their bedroom Mark pulled on a shirt and collected up his phone, heading out to the balcony. His head was already trying to find a way he could turn Fernando’s innocent breakfast into a not so innocent one as he scrolled through his notifications. Fernando hadn’t seen his tweet yet. Mark smiled; he hadn’t missed the beautiful reaction. He frowned as his phone dropped him the notification that Ann had sent him another text. The bracket now totalled five. That didn’t make any sense. Still frowning deeply, Mark hit the button, opening Ann’s most recent message.

_We’re getting it under control, Ok?_

Mark froze. Getting what under control? His finger was scrolling up and he was reading Ann’s messages backwards, unable to stop himself. His confusion set in as they didn’t make any sense. Mark decided it was best to read them in order then maybe he could understand.

_DO NOT GO ON ANY SOCIAL MEDIA. DO NOT CHECK THE NEWS. STAY OFF YOUR PHONE AND KEEP FERNANDO AND YOURSELF INSIDE._

_I’m serious, Mark. Stay away from it all._

_DO NOT LEAVE YOUR HOTEL ROOM_

_This is… Fuck, Mark you need to call me. Get Fernando to get hold of Ferrari._

_We’re getting it under control, Ok?_

Mark still didn’t understand, so against Ann’s advice he headed straight for twitter. His frown deepened. None of it made sense. It was just abuse. Barrels and barrels of abuse. Mark panicked. Was this their reaction to his picture? Was this the public’s reaction to his declaration of love to Fernando? Had they all suddenly turned against them over night? What the fuck was going on?

He dove onto Sky Sports, hoping for some clarity, and really wished he hadn’t.

_Sebastian Vettel delivers the truth: Just how long has the Alonso/Webber love affair existed?_

Mark only had to read the first sentence before he knew he was going to fucking murder Sebastian Vettel. He paced back into the hotel room, storming towards the door and shoving the lock in place. Fuelled by his anger his jogged back into the bedroom, shutting the balcony door and tearing the curtains closed. His breathing was heavy as he tried to clear this up. What the fuck had Sebastian done? Mark gripped tighter to his phone and he demanded it give him BBC Sports. He hit the F1 link, glaring at the small screen in his hands.

_Alonso is a joke in love, but is Webber any better?_

This time the phone did end up twirling across the room, smacking healthily into the en suite door. Mark thundered back into the main room, running his hands through his hair. He knew he’d have to read that damned fucking article. He knew he would need to know exactly what Sebastian had done. He was fuming. His blood was pounding loudly in his ears as he paced the floor. This would be Ok, wouldn’t it? They could damage control as long as Fernando and he stayed inside. They could get Ferrari to come to them because they were in the same hotel, and Porsche were already sort of in the know about Mark’s situation with Sebastian. They could help to. Mark could get as many people to Fernando and his room as possible and they could Skype conference call the rest of the needed people to come up with a damage control plan. Mark was more than confident Sebastian had delivered a lungful of lies. They could fix this. They could-

Dread rooted Mark to the spot as he realised Fernando wasn’t in the room with him.

He had gone out for a run.

Dashing towards the balcony, he appeared into the morning air just in time to see the sea of press waiting outside the hotel to swamp on his husband. Fernando just stood, shocked, in the middle of the crowd until all Mark could see of him was the flash of cameras. Mark didn’t even think twice before turning on his heels and rushing from the room.


	44. Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.”   
> ~ Mother Teresa ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just about managed to beat having not updated this for a year! Shit, how time has flown!!  
> Anyway, I'm back now and hopefully I can have some more frequent updates for you - sorry! I didn't realise how long I had left this. And to think this part has been sitting half written on my laptop for most of that time as well - super sorry about that.  
> I hope it was worth the wait! It's been a long time coming but now it is here :D
> 
> Sadly, however, I must place a warning here. Obviously I wrote this a long time ago before a course of events happened. At the time (had I not have almost waited a year to update this) It would have not been such an issue but now a warning is needed. Jules is mentioned/is in this part. I didn't have the heart to take him out of it. And I don't want to. I will most likely continue to use him through the rest of this work and, because in this one I am keeping it as close to real life events as possible, Jules' incident will be in this work. It's a long way off but I thought it was best to let you know it is coming. I don't know how much of it I will mention or how I'm going to do it but I will leave a warning at the beginning of that chapter so you know it's there. 
> 
> I really hope that the mentioning of Jules and of his incident is not too painful for people to read and doesn't deter you from this story if you have been enjoying it so far. Like I said I don't have the heart to just take Jules out of this work because of how we sadly lost him and I hope you understand. He will not be a massive part to the story but, alike the other drivers, he will appear and be used in the story. 
> 
> With that now covered here is the new part! I really hope you like it - sorry about making you wait for so long!
> 
> *JB17*  
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Fernando wanted to jog because he needed to clear his head. He’d been awake, just slowly stroking his fingers through Mark’s hair for too long, so long in fact he felt a little creepy. And he knew why he had been doing it; for the same reasons he was pounding his feet into the tarmac right now. He breathed deeply, trying to force the doubt and worry to stay behind him as he jogged on. The music was at a dangerously high volume, blaring in his ears in a pitiful attempt to keep his head distracted. But it was no use. Still the thoughts flowed.

He would be alone in Malaysia. Mark wouldn’t be there.

He tried to focus on the way he could still get through the weekend with Mark, albeit the Australian not physically being there, but the looming threat of a repeat of the previous night hovered in the air. Sebastian could easily do that again, no? Then where was Mark? Where was Mark to force him out of the room? Where was Mark to physically hold him together even as he fell apart? Fernando hated the thought. He would be alone; there was no stopping it. And that made him very vulnerable to Sebastian’s attack.

He knew he had to talk to Mark about this, it really was the only way of easing his concerns, but if he did Mark would just tell him he would come to Malaysia. Fernando didn’t want that. Mark was supposed to be going on to do his own thing with Porsche, away from the F1 circus. Fernando wouldn’t be the one to drag him back into it. Even if he didn’t really want to consider the sport without Mark.

He could do this, couldn’t he? He was strong enough and he trusted Mark enough to be able to put all of Sebastian’s cruel words to the side. It would be fine. Mark didn’t need to be troubled by him. He wanted Mark to concentrate on his Porsche thing and he wanted Mark to enthuse about it and fill the house with his words just like he did when he sighed the contract in the first place. Mark was excited for his new challenge and Fernando wanted that to remain.

Heading back towards the hotel, that’s what Fernando decided. If he needed Mark at any point he could call him, he was sure. And he knew Mark would remind him of that fact until it was burned into his brain. That idea made Fernando smile. He knew Mark was going to do everything possible to make sure Fernando knew he was available whenever he needed. And that sense of protection filled Fernando with a beautiful pride. He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he remerged onto the street round the corner from the hotel. How could Sebastian tear them apart when they were unbreakable? Fernando just knew he had to keep reminding himself of that. Then nothing could harm them.

Slowing to a walk, Fernando pulled a headphone out of his ear, frowning at the crowd of press surrounding the hotel entrance. That didn’t make sense. They weren’t there when he had left. Checking his watch he noted he’d been gone for forty-five minutes. Had all these people arrived in forty-five minutes? And why were they even here? Rising onto his toes, Fernando tried to see if they were crowed around anything. But there was nothing. Nothing he could see anyway. He sunk back to his normal height, still frowning, trying to make his way towards the hotel.

“Excuse me…” He muttered.

And then hell broke loose.

Dazzling flashes popped lights in his eyes. A tidal wave of noise rushed over him as the press swarmed forwards. Fernando staggered backwards, unsure of what else to do. But they were closing on at every angle. Cameras pushed into his face as microphones and dictaphones fought to be pushed under his nose. He threw his arms up, trying to fend them off, but it was no use. Everyone wanted his words, his face, his reaction. Fernando didn’t understand. His mind was spinning over the possibilities. Why? What had happened? Why was this happening? Where the fuck was Mark?

“Mark…” Fernando tried pathetically, but his weak call was lost in the bellow of all the other voices surrounding him.

“Fernando, how long have you been with Mark-?”

“-Were all of your past relationships a cover-up-?”

“-Have you been cheating on Dasha with Mark-?”

“-To what extent is your relationship fucked up-?”

“-Sebastian Vettel claims this could have started in 2008-”

“-Is that true-?”

“-Nico Rosberg suggested 2006-”

“-Mark…” Fernando shut his eyes, dropping his head as he fought forwards, desperate to get inside the hotel. But it was no use; he was walking round in circles, barely making progress before more press and flashing lights surrounded him. He wanted to fall to the floor, collapse in the middle of it all and just wait for Mark. Mark would come. Mark had to come. The breath caught in Fernando throat as he suddenly realised Mark could be in the same situation as him. He needed to get to Mark. They needed to face this together. Gritting his teeth, Fernando pushed forwards. But hands were suddenly grabbing at him, dragging him back into the press and away from the glimpse of the golden door that he had seen.

“No comment.” Fernando breathed, pushing the microphones away from him. It deterred no one. “No comment…” He insisted, hyperventilating. The journalists didn’t stop, crowding him until he barely had room to draw breath. Fernando clutched the sides of his head, shaking it frantically as he chanted “No comment.” over and over to everyone who wasn’t listening to him.

-

Sebastian stood on his balcony, looking down at the carnage he had created. He let the smug grin settle on his face as he sipped slowly at the coffee in his hands.

-

More than one guest sent Mark a strange look as the Australian tore towards the entrance, towards the bustle of movement, blare of sound and blinding flashes of light. Most guests in the lobby had frozen, looking towards the doors acting like barriers from the hysteria. No one dared approach but their curiosity kept them rooted to the spot. Not even caring that he was dressed only in his boxers and a shirt Mark ran at the door tearing it open and forcing the sound and chaos into the hotel lobby. The other guests recoiled from it, heading to the safety of the concierge desk, but Mark took no interest in them, his eyes already raking the area for Fernando.

It took less than a second for the cameras to turn on him.

“Mark! Is it true you took Sebastian out in Turkey, 2010, because he caught Fernando and you together?”

“Has Fernando made you take the backseat so he can continue with his false relationship with Dasha?”

“Were you aware Fernando was cheating on people being with you?”

“Or was he cheating on you with these people?”

“How can you think this is a good relationship?”

“You’re both a horrible example to young gay athletes, no?”

“I need to get to my husband.” Mark gritted, forcing himself through the crowd. They didn’t make it easy for him.

“Mark-!”

“-Get that thing out of my face or I’ll shove it so far up your arse you’ll taste it.” Mark glared as a reporter stood directly in front of him. Pushing more people out of the way his eyes rapidly scanned the crowd. But it was becoming almost impossible. Now, being within the crowd, Mark had no idea which way was the way he had just come or which way was the direction to Fernando. He gritted his teeth tightly, shoving another camera from his face. The flash popped too close to his eyes and he staggered backwards, momentarily blinded.

“Fucker.” Mark spat under his breath, rubbing his eyes.

“No comment. No comment. No comment. No comment. No comment. No comment.” Mark spun around, forcing himself between two cameramen who were recording whatever was just in front of them. A lump grew in his throat as Mark caught glimpse of Fernando’s trainers between their legs as he squeezed through. He already felt like he had failed. Hadn’t he promised himself just last night that he would never let Fernando come to any harm again? And that was _only_ last night.

“Fernando!” Mark called, unceremoniously ramming one microphone-holding prick into another. Fernando’s head snapped up, eyes raking the crowd for that voice. But he couldn’t see him. Fernando shook his head, the panic clear in his eyes.

“Mark…” he whimpered, tears springing in his eyes. Mark locked his jaw. Isn’t that just what they wanted; Fernando breaking down on video and captured in pictures. Mark refused to let it happen. He would not give Sebastian the satisfaction.

“Hey!” An angry cameraman outraged as Mark forced his way passed him, scooping Fernando into his arms from behind the Spaniard. Fernando fell into Mark’s hold, hiding his face from the world as he sobbed into Mark’s shoulder. Mark did his best to keep Fernando hidden from the excessive camera flashes that now surrounded them.

“Shh, bub, I’ve got you...” Mark cooed gently into Fernando’s ear. He momentarily removed one arm from around Fernando to push the recording equipment out of his face, glaring at the fuckers trying to steal his precious words to Fernando.

“H-how… And what-?”

“Shh, Fernando. We need to get out of here. I’ll explain upstairs.” Mark said, kissing Fernando’s head gently. Fernando nodded. “Can you be strong for a little bit longer? You’ve done so well, I’m so proud of you. Just a bit longer and then we’re inside.” Mark begged quietly. Still the questions surrounded them but Mark blocked them all out, focusing only on the man in his arms.

“I tr-try.” Fernando gulped. Mark kissed him again.

“That’s more than enough, mi hermoso marido.” Mark tried to manoeuvre them out of the press, keeping his hand tightly encased around Fernando’s but it became clear very quickly this wouldn’t be easy. In fact, it was potentially impossible. Mark kept his face tightly locked as Fernando pressed himself into his back.

“Mark?”

“It’s Ok, Fernando. Just don’t let go of me.”

“Never…”

“HEY!” Mark and Fernando turned towards the hotel to see Felipe balancing on one of the stone statues that flanked the hotel entrance. They both frowned at the Brazilian who seemed to be fuming. Suddenly Kimi appeared beside him.

“By that tree.” The Finn instructed before disappearing again.

“You think this is fair!” Felipe hollered to the stunned press. The cameras slowly began to turn to face him but Fernando and Mark were still stuck. “You idiots believe lies from an idiot and think is fair to bombard them like this!”

“Have you read the article, Felipe?” A journalist called.

“For sure! And is full of crap! Have been Fernando’s teammate for four years and can tell you most of this shit you report never happens!”

“And thanks to the fucker whose twisted my words!” Nico Rosberg yelled, angry and suddenly climbing up next to Felipe. “I was set up you wanker! So nice of you to manipulate the situation!”

“How do any of you know Sebastian lied?” Someone else called. Mark narrowed his eyes; he was sure that was the voice of that fucking French reporter.

“We can tell you what we know happened and you can put our twenty stories together and compare them against his fucking one!” Jenson barked.

“Jenson, Sebastian said that you put the photos in-”

“-Yeah, Sebastian fucking said that because _he_ fucking did it! He’s trying to pass the blame! Keep himself innocent! Just ask Fernando and Mark!” Jenson gritted. Fernando gripped Mark’s shoulder tighter but Mark just rubbed a soothing thumb across their interlinked hands.

“This is not fair! For sure! Now fuck off!” Felipe roared. But the press weren’t deterred that easily. As soon as the Brazilian finished talking the press swooped in, aiming for Nico, Jenson and Felipe as well as all of the other drivers who had appeared to help.

“Mark-”

“-Fernando.” Fernando turned to see Jules holding his hand out, being bustled slightly by the press who had started, again, to try and question Fernando and Mark.

“Mark?”

“After you, buddy.” Mark nodded, allowing Jules to begin to drag his husband out of this chaos. Mark stayed very close to Fernando as Jules lead them back towards the hotel, pushing away any cameras or microphones that got close. Romain suddenly appeared on Fernando’s left, slotting behind Mark and helping the Australian out.

“Look after him, Mark.” Romain said, forcing a camera to take a picture of the sky rather than Fernando and Mark. Mark nodded, wrapping his arms tightly around Fernando as Romain forced the press back. Still the noise and flashes continued to overbear the foursome. As much as they were all trying the press were still getting too close. Jules sent Mark a pained look as Fernando tried to break his hand unintentionally. “KIMI!” Romain boomed, pushing more people out of the way. But they had stopped; the press were closing in and the four of them could no longer move. Nico Hulkenberg appeared first, forcing himself between two more cameramen.

“Kimi’s got a clear run.” Nico said, grabbing Jules as someone tried to get a microphone in his face. Fernando just wanted to hide. How ridiculous this looked. He was having to be ushered out by four other people. How weak. He slowly began to despise himself. How was he supposed to stay strong for Mark when he couldn’t deal with a little bit of press? He was used to this, no? He was used to being in the limelight. He felt repulsed by himself. And suddenly he was pushing away from Mark and the others. Mark gripped tightly to his shoulders.

“Fernando, not here.” Mark pleaded, moving the Spaniard onwards. Jules gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as Kimi appeared beside Nico, ushering them through.

“Mark…”

“Fernando, come on.” Jules said gently, sensing something was wrong.

“It’s fine, Fernando, come on.” Mark begged, the sadness filtering into his eyes as he recognised the look on Fernando’s face. “You’re fine. You’re doing fine.”

“Not…” Fernando squinted his eyes shut, trying to drop Jules’ hand and shrug from Mark’s grip. Neither man let Fernando go.

“Now is not the time!” Romain ordered, slowly getting swamped by more press as Mark began to slow down. He gave the Australian a push onwards. “Kimi!”

“Mark get him up to your room, Andrea and Stefano are already there.” Kimi stated as he pushed five journalists backwards, ignoring their bursts of outrage.

“Fernando the hotel is just here.” Jules encouraged. “Just, right here.”

“Come on, mate. Do this away from the world.” Mark breathed softly in his ear. Resentfully, Fernando let Jules drag him up the steps, Mark still close behind. Mark let out a satisfied breath as Fernando and he made it back inside the hotel. Jules left Fernando with Mark, who instantly curled into his embrace, to help the other drivers barricade the door.

“Someone call the fucking police!” Jenson shot hotly as Nico Rosberg and he pressed their weight into the door to stop it from opening. The lobby was suddenly filled with flashing lights and muffled shouts.

“They said cannot because technically are not doing anything wrong.” Felipe spat, still shaking with rage.

“That’s got Seb’s name all over it.” Jenson glared towards Mark. Mark pulled Fernando closer to him.

“Tell them that we do not care. Call them yourself!” Jules hissed towards Felipe. He couldn’t even stand to look at Fernando. He wasn’t supposed to look like this. He was supposed to always be strong. Jules hated everyone who had done this to Fernando, and that apparently included Sebastian. Felipe narrowed his eyes before disappearing without any other comment.

“Felipe tell them that whatever Seb is doing that we can do better. Tell them to not fucking listen to him.” Mark said hotly as the Brazilian passed. Sending Fernando a sorrow filled look Felipe nodded, disappearing.

“I can’t believe this was all Seb.” Nico Hulkenberg frowned.

“You don’t have a clue.” Jenson bit.

“Get him out of here!” Kimi ushered, suddenly noticing Fernando and Mark were still standing in the lobby. “Are trying to give them what they want?”

“We have this covered, Mark.” Romain assured, giving a curt nod with folded arms. Mark would have stayed. He really would have done. He would have loved to have gone out there and told the press exactly what he thought. But he had Fernando. And he needed to keep Fernando safe. It was the most important thing to him. Thanking everyone for their help, Mark moved Fernando over to the stairs, beginning their slow journey to their floor.

“Shit…” Mark suddenly muttered, dropping his head back. Fernando looked up at him with scared eyes.

“What?”

“My key… It’s in the fucking room. I just left. I didn’t even think-”

“-Have my key.” Fernando breathed. Mark looked across at him, taking his hand. But Fernando shrugged him off. “Do not.”

“You were caught on the back foot, Fernando.” Mark justified, but Fernando still shook his head, hugging his arms around himself; the self-disdain clear on his face. “It’s OK-”

“Was weak…” Fernando gasped. Mark cupped his cheek, forcing him to look up at him.

“You were not weak.” Mark assured, but Fernando clearly didn’t believe him.

“Need four people to get me out…”

“They bombarded you, mate.” Mark reminded, stroking his thumb gently across Fernando’s skin. “You were swarmed.”

“Has happened before…”

“Yeah but you knew it was going to happen when it happened before. You were prepared. And you knew why they were bombarding you.” Fernando looked up at Mark uncertainly. “You were fine, Fernando. You reacted as expected.”

“As he wants me to…” Fernando sighed. Mark was relieved when Fernando easily curled into his body. He began to slowly walk them back up the stairs.

“You weren’t to know, mate. Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine.” Mark promised, kissing Fernando’s temple. Fernando just curled closer to Mark, trying to push away his self-hatred.

“There you are.” Andrea moved swiftly down the corridor as Mark and Fernando ended up on their floor. “Have been looking all over for you.”

“We got a little tied up.” Mark explained begrudgingly, ushering Fernando into their room. Andrea touched Mark’s shoulder, glancing worriedly at Fernando’s back.

“Were not just… Outside?”

“Sadly so.” Mark muttered, watching the worry turn to sadness on the Italian’s face. Andrea shook his head.

“Why-?”

“-He went out for a run. Woke up before I did. Neither of us knew anything was going on.” Andrea nodded woefully, following Mark inside the hotel room and closing the door behind them. They moved into the main room to where Stefano and Fernando were.

“Do not care I want a shower.” Fernando bit, arms folded tightly. Mark rubbed a hand soothingly at the base of Fernando’s neck, frowning a little at Stefano.

“What’s going on?” Mark asked lightly. Stefano opened his mouth to speak but it was Fernando who answered.

“Want a shower but Stefano says I have to stay here and sort out stuff.”

“The sooner we react the more damage control we can do.” Stefano reiterated, as he had just said to Fernando.

“Does not matter. Already get what they want.” Fernando huffed.

“No they didn’t.” Mark countered. Fernando frowned deeply at him, not hiding his frustration with the situation. “They wanted answers and you didn’t give any answers. So no one got what they wanted.”

“Sebastian does.” Fernando shot. Mark deflated a little but it was enough for Fernando to know he was right. “I make more of a mess so is best I stay out of the way.” Knocking Mark’s arm off him Fernando moved towards the bathroom.

“Mate-” Mark tried but Fernando stepped away from his touch.

“-Do not need me here to sort things out.” Fernando pressed, looking deep into Mark’s eyes. Mark could see he was right on the edge, toeing that fragile line between holding up a front and falling into a mess of himself. With his pride already on the line Mark understood how Fernando wouldn’t want to break down in front of anyone right now, not even him. Reluctantly Mark nodded, dropping his arm.

“Ok, mate… Grab a shower and join us when you’re done.” Pulling Fernando closer Mark kissed him gently, squeezing Fernando’s hand tightly in his own. He wasn’t surprised to have the Spaniard pushing him away and disappearing instantly into the bathroom. Desperately wanting to be the other side of the locked door Mark allowed himself to deflate a little before running his hand over his face and turning to Andrea and Stefano.

“Is not OK, is he.” Andrea observed, his voice pained. Mark just shook his head, tangling stressed fingers into his hair.

“We have Ferrari ready to issue a statement.” Stefano explained lightly, gesturing towards the laptop he had set up ready on the desk. Mark looked up at it, nodding. “Can assume you have the same support at Porsche?”

“Yeah, I’ll give them a call.” Mark agreed, sending another look towards the bathroom door. “I’ll get dressed and do it now.” _The sooner this mess is over the better._ Mark thought as, forcing himself not to head towards the bathroom, he took himself into the adjoining bedroom to get dressed and collect his phone.

They had quite a mess to sort out.

\- - - -

When Fernando finally re-emerged from the bathroom the hotel room had been transformed into a hub of activity. People were on laptops set up around the room, phone calls were happening left, right and centre. In the midst of all of it was Mark dictating and instructing the people who had gathered around him. Fernando had no idea where they had all come from or exactly what they were all doing but there were so many of them. He felt a little overwhelmed.

Of course they were all here to help, but there was an uneasy feeling around the whole set up. With so many people around how easy would it be for Sebastian to get someone inside the room? Sabotage their fix with an ‘accidental’ agreement to everything the German had said? From an official account that would be near on impossible to recover. Fernando glanced around at the people surrounding him, studying their faces, looking out for someone he might recognise. Heikki was apparently no longer on Sebastian’s side but what if the Finn had tricked them? Double-crossed them on Sebastian’s order? Made them believe he was on their side when, really, he was still working for Sebastian?

Fernando shook his head; now he was being paranoid.

But there was good reason to be. He felt uneasy; uneasy in a place he should have felt safe and secure. With the sudden appearance of so many people in such a short space of time he had to wonder what kind of operation Mark was trying to run. And the fact their hotel room door had been propped open by a chair (so it was constantly open) made Fernando feel worse. Anyone could walk in at any time. In fact that’s exactly what was happening. People were going in and out like it was a fast-food restaurant. Fernando had locked the bedroom door when he had gone to get dressed out of fear someone would walk in on him.

He really wanted to get to Mark but the Australian seemed so busy he didn’t want to interrupt him. Constantly talking to Andrea, who appeared to be on a Skype call with someone from Porsche, Stefano, who was directing the Ferrari staff in Italian, and whoever Mark was on the phone to, Fernando guessed it was Ann, there didn’t seem to be any space for him to get near his husband. Feeling like he would just be in the way if he stayed and desperately needing some personal space, Fernando grabbed his phone, wrote a quick note for Mark (handing it to one of his mechanics to pass on to Mark once he was off the phone) and dashed out of the crowded room. He breathed a deep lungful of air as he headed towards the stairs.

Fernando contemplated going for a walk in the warm day, trying to forget everything that had happened that morning but it was the events of that morning that kept him as far away from the lobby as possible. There was a potential that the press were still out there, still waiting for him to come back down so he could be wrestled for answers again. Fernando still didn’t have any idea what the hell this whole mess was about and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know either. Ignorance is bliss usually, but the sheer magnitude of press that had been waiting for him made Fernando believe that, even if he did everything in his power to not find out, he would eventually.

So changing his destination, Fernando decided the root would probably be the clearest way of accessing the source.

It was sheer luck that Fernando knew where Sebastian’s room was. He was pretty confident the German would still be here; there was no way he would have left and not waited for his plan to come to light. If the past year had taught Fernando anything it was that Sebastian liked to hang around to witness the chaos he had created. He could just imagine the smug look on Sebastian’s face as he watched the press swarm Fernando because of whatever he had said to the press. Fernando could feel the anger channelling through him as he marched to Sebastian’s door, wrapping his knuckles against the wood. He let out a hot breath as he waited for the door to be opened, folding his arms across his chest. Enough was enough.

“Well, this is a surprise.” Sebastian said after a moment of staring at Fernando in shock. He hid behind the door slightly, glancing nervously down the corridor. “You are alone?”

“Yes.” Fernando said curtly, making no sign of moving further or closer to Sebastian’s room. Sebastian’s expression slowly dropped into a frown. 

“Does Mark know you are here?”

“No.” Sebastian blinked, dumbfounded, at the Spaniard.

“Does anyone know you are here?”

“No.” The German let out a breath.

“I think you have already been spending too much time with your new teammate…” Fernando rolled his eyes at Sebastian’s comment, dropping his arms.

“You have your fun now, OK? So just stop.”

“Stop?”

“With all these games.” Fernando exasperated, doing nothing to show how tired he was of the mess Sebastian continued to throw Mark and him into. Sadly for Fernando Sebastian just smirked.

“Oh, Fernando… I’m just getting started.”

“What is it you are even trying to achieve?” Fernando glared. It appeared to make Sebastian even more gleeful.

“I need to make sure you remember your place.” He shrugged casually. Fernando gritted his teeth.

“Can you not just leave this for the track?”

“No… No; there is no fun in that.”

“Why are you doing this? Is it not enough that you beat me in the races? Is it not enough you drive Mark from the sport?”

“I did that, did I?” Sebastian said mock-innocently. Fernando shook his head.

“Do not understand you…”

“Why is it you really came here, Fernando? Because I certainly didn’t expect you here after this morning.” Fernando narrowed his eyes at the connotation in Sebastian’s words.

“… Were expecting Mark?” He frowned, confused. Sebastian gave a very unhelpful shrug.

“I was certain he would come down here to ‘protect his man’” Sebastian pretended to gag. “You make me sick.”

“Then leave us alone.” Fernando shot. Sebastian appeared to ignore him.

“I suppose with Mark not coming down here it just proves me right; he doesn’t care about you anymore. I bet he’s up there right now making sure his arse is covered…” Sebastian waited for a reaction from Fernando but all he got was a frown for his troubles. “You know…” Fernando frowned deeper as Sebastian’s expression began to match his own. “You know, don’t you?”

“Know what?”

“What I did.” Sebastian said, his forehead creased into deep lines. Fernando shrugged.

“Was out for a run.” Sebastian openly gapped at the Spaniard. “Do not care what you did.”

“But… But they swarmed you.”

“I know.”

“How can you not know? I would have put money on Mark showing you…”

“He does not.” Fernando stated in a blasé tone. Sebastian narrowed his eyes at him.

“Why hasn’t Mark told you? Does he not think you can take it?” He sneered.

“Has not had a chance.”

“Sure.” Sebastian scoffed. “Or he knows you’re just weak and pathetic.” Sebastian could see his words were hitting home. He had gotten Fernando right where he wanted him.

“Am not…” Fernando said, his voice weaker than before.

“You are. I bet you’re going to drag Mark to Malaysia with you just so you can hold his hand.” The German teased, smirking widely. Fernando shook his head confidently.

“Mark will not be there.” Of all things Fernando was certain of, that was one of them. He wasn’t weak. He didn’t need Mark there. After what had happened this morning he was certainly not going to give anyone reason to think he was weak. He needed to prove he could stand on his own two feet.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Fernando.” Sebastian laughed.

“Am serious.” Fernando pressed. He would not have anyone – especially Sebastian – look at him as someone weak and pathetic. He did not _need_ Mark.

“I guess we will see in a couple of weeks. Sure looked like you needed him today. Him and Jules and Romain and Nico…” Sebastian grinned as he watched the conflict rattle inside Fernando. “You know, there was a moment there where I thought you were going to break down in front of everyone.” Sebastian barely had time to let out his laughter before Fernando had him pushed up against the wall of his room, the fire door slowly shutting behind them and sealing them in the room. 

“You stop now.” Fernando gritted, eyes ablaze. Sebastian matched his glare with as much intensity.

“Like I said, I’m only just getting started. You’ve made me curious now; I want to know just how far I need to push you before you show the world the pathetic wreck you really are.” Sebastian smiled manically. His glee increased as he saw the fear flutter through Fernando’s irises. “You have no idea what I have up my sleeve.”

“You have nothing.” Fernando pushed away from Sebastian, heading straight for the door. “Can do nothing to me.”

“You really want to test that theory?” Placing one hand on the wood he prevented Fernando from leaving. “I’m not sure you will like the results.”

“Have nothing.” Fernando repeated, more trying to convince himself than Sebastian; something the German did not miss.

“Of course I don’t.” Sebastian nodded, his voice clearly condescending. Fernando sent him a weary look as he moved away from the door and back to his bed, collecting up his laptop on the way. “Say hi to Mark for me.” Not wanting to hang around and risk any more potential mind games Sebastian might throw his way, Fernando pulled open the door, disappearing into the corridor. He didn’t look back as he headed for the stairs. Once he was out of sight of the German’s room he stopped in the stairwell leaning back against the wall. He needed to calm down before he got back to Mark but he could already feel the panic rising in his chest. Still with no idea of what Sebastian had done this morning the fear of what he could do next had Fernando rooted to the spot. Fernando thought he had covered off any other attacks after the Brazilian Grand Prix last year but hadn’t Sebastian still managed to get hold of his wedding photos? Hadn’t Sebastian managed to do something today that had the press (and apparently the public) completely against Mark and he? How much power did Sebastian actually have over him? What the fuck could he do next? Too many things flashed through Fernando’s head in answer to that question; the possibilities were endless. He didn’t know what to do; there seemed to be no way he could stop Sebastian.

Forcing his eyes open he knew he needed to calm down before he went back upstairs to Mark.

“There you are.” Fernando froze as he crossed the threshold of Mark and his hotel room as the Australian crossed to him. Mark pulled Fernando into his embrace, hugging him tightly and sighing, now content as he had Fernando back in his embrace. “Where did you wander off to?”

“Just went for a walk.” Fernando lied, hugging Mark back so he could hide his face in Mark’s chest. He knew he couldn’t lie directly to Mark’s face, but he could if he didn’t look at him. “Was too crowded.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Mark muttered, tilting Fernando’s chin up and kissing him softly. Content with Fernando’s story he took the Spaniard’s hand, leading him across the room. “I think we’ve got the situation under control now.”

“Yes?” Fernando queried. Mark nodded.

“Both Porsche, Ferrari _and_ Red Bull have released statements in our favour. We’ll have a bit of shit for a while but after the next Grand Prix we’ll clear it up.”

“Why are we waiting so long?” Fernando frowned. “Surely by then this is old news, no one will care?”

“I didn’t really want this to cut into our holiday.” Mark explained sadly, rubbing Fernando’s arm. Fernando nodded his agreement; he hadn’t even thought about that. Plus, with the promise to the press for an exclusive interview I think we can keep this dragging on a bit longer, hopefully it will prevent him from doing anything else.”

“Uh huh…” Fernando muttered; glad Mark was too distracted to notice his uncomfortableness with that idea. He was certain if anything his conversation with Sebastian had just guaranteed something else was going to happen in Malaysia. But he certainly wasn’t going to tell Mark that; if he did Mark would want to come with him to Malaysia and that was playing straight into Sebastian’s hands once again. “So are doing an exclusive?”

“Yeah, I decided to stick with TEN if that’s OK with you?”

“Sure.” Fernando nodded, still hating the fact that he was going to have to sit and talk about whatever it was Sebastian had done or said.

“The girl Jai was pretty keen to help us out so I asked her if she would hold the interview, yeah?” Mark appeared to be worried, watching Fernando carefully, but Fernando just smiled, kissing him softly.

“Is fine. As long as am with you will all be OK.” Mark smiled, relieved, as he sat Fernando on the bed. Fernando looked up at him a little confused as Mark nervously pulled his phone from his pocket.

“If we’re going to do an exclusive you really need to know what he has done…” Mark explained, moving to close the bedroom door before returning to Fernando and sitting beside him. He passed over his phone. Fernando took the device, looking between it and Mark as if it were a bomb that could explode any moment. Mark really didn’t know how Fernando was going to react, but he decided the sooner Fernando found out about it the better. As much as he wanted to it would do no one any good to keep Fernando in the dark on this. “The Sky one is… Tamer…” Mark swallowed nervously. It filled Fernando with no confidence. Taking a deep breath, Fernando turned the phone ver and unlocked it, heading straight to the Sky Sports app. It was the first story title he saw. How Sebastian had done it Fernando couldn’t even begin to fathom, but the swarm of press waiting outside the hotel suddenly made a lot more sense now.

_Sebastian Vettel delivers the truth: Just how long has the Alonso/Webber love affair existed?_

“Fucker…” Fernando muttered in a defeated sigh, clicking on the heading and beginning to read the false account of how long Mark and he had been together.


End file.
